Burn it to the ground
by FoundHerselfInWonderland
Summary: Dean is sixteen and on a one man mission to ruin his life. At the end of her rope, Mary sends him to live with his absent father, his new wife and their two children. He is determined to be the child from hell, but things don t quite work out that way. Dean doesn't believe in fairy tales, but life might just throw him one anyway. Destiel. Teen angst with eventual cuteness.
1. Trouble

**So I never really know what to say in these little notes, but here goes nothing. First of all, thanks for clickity-clicking on this wee fic. It was nothing more than a boredom killer for me, so if people like it, then that is just a plus. I just want to say that it is based off of a book I read a very long time ago when I was about eleven. I forget the name, but I believe it was by Cathy Cassidy. So, I hope you enjoy, please let me know if you do and have a wonderful day! x**

I was in trouble, yet again. Big trouble, enormous trouble. The kind of big trouble that requires hushed, urgent phone calls to be made from the Principal's office to my mom, while I laze about smugly on the uncomfortable plastic chair outside in the tackily decorated hallway. I pick up my scuffed AC/DC backpack from the floor and after a few seconds of rummaging around I feel my hands clasp around my battered looking old cell phone. Ignoring the school`s policies, the device bleeps into life, playing a brief and jaunty little tune, before showing me my lock screen, the black and red lyrics from "Highway to hell," make up my wallpaper.

The receptionist walks with purpose to her desk, her sensible black shoes click-clacking away. She glares at me from behind a stack of paperwork, which she briefly glances over before taking it into the office, tutting as she closes the door gently. She knocked once and entered without waiting for a reply. Impatient bitch.

**_Where are you?_**

I chuckle and put the phone in my pocket before relaxing further back into the chair, resting one leg atop the other. A mere two minutes later it bleeps again. And three times more before I finally shut it off, not wanting to deal with my best friend/partner in crime`s pretentious bullshit right now.

******_You get caught?_**

**_You know better than to snitch on us. _**

**_Right? _**

**_Cause I don't wanna hurt you. _**

Good ol` Lucifer, always the concerned best friend. It didn`t take a rocket scientist to figure out that there was a silent "but I will," in his message. Load of crap anyway, Luke lived for hurting others weaker than himself, a big part of him got off on it I think. What a dick.

The door opens not long afterwards to reveal one of the most hideous creatures you could ever have the sheer dumb luck of meeting.

"Dean Winchester!" Ms Young`s beady eyes narrow. Her voice is shrill, piercing my ears and I resist the urge to cover them. Smiling politely up at her I ask her what the matter was, playing the part of the sweet little fool well.

"I am unable to contact your mother. Her secretary says she is in an urgent meeting and they daren`t call her away from it." Her thin bottom lips curls up.

I sympathize, "Too bad," I smirk and kick my feet up on the small coffee table in front of me, one eyebrow raised as if daring her to say something. She doesn`t, but I could tell she wasn`t best pleased.

I was no stranger to trouble, I was what my late Grandmother affectionately referred to as a "free spirit," an impulsive, hard to control kid who had a strong dislike for all things authority related. Back when I was still her favourite Grandkid, at least. HI was her only Grandkid back then, she was obligated to say that. Trouble followed me wherever I went, and if I had learnt one thing it was this; there is no use hanging your head in shame and feigning apologies. They never believe you anyway, so why bother?

It is well past three by the time Mom finally decides to make an appearance. She probably stopped for a nice long coffee first. Two sugars and just a splash of milk. Anything to put of this situation. By now Mrs Smith is busy slaving over the computer, her disgusting fake nails tapping irritatingly against the cheap keyboard. My eye twitches. The doors swing open with a clatter at three forty six. Damn she looked pissed this time. Worse than last time when I was caught smoking behind the toilets with Lucifer, or that one time and my old high school when me and that stuck up Bela girl were caught groping each other in the teacher`s lounge. Not my idea, hers. I didn`t really like her all that much anyway, but she was a pretty good kisser. Ms Young, which is a massive joke by the way, snaps her head as Mom enters, eyes narrowing in distaste as she glances at the clock hanging proudly on the beige wall.

"What has he done this time?" She asks icily, tucking a long stand of expensively highlighted hair behind her ear.

The old battle-axe's grey eyes light up at the question, and Mrs Smith even stops assaulting the computer key board to look up briefly, her lips curled up as though she was sucking on a bitter lemon.

"We will keep it brief, Ms Campbell. Please, come through to my office." Ms Young`s grey eyes turn on me now. "You too." She says with a smug smile. "First may I apologise wholeheartedly for disturbing you at work-"

"Cut the crap, ok? It has been a very long day."

She nods and smiles, but I can see she is shaken. "Dean assaulted another student. He is a disgrace to this fine school and a very troubled young man."

I screw my eyes shut to resist the urge to flip her off, to flip them all off.

"This is the last straw I am afraid we have no choice but to exclude your son." She bites back a smile. "A third exclusion is, as I am sure you recall, final."

"There is nothing I can say to get you to reconsider?" She asks in a dull voice, already knowing the strict answer won`t change.  
>"I am afraid not." She doesn`t sound sorry at all. Not in the slightest.<br>I grin to myself, joy erupting inside me for the first time in God knows how long. So long bitches! Sayonara!

"Dean is a smart young man, very talented too. He could have done very well here, but his temper and attitude towards authority figures is just atrocious. A broken home can affect young people in very dreadful ways .Have you possibly considered counselling?" she suggests out of mock kindness and Mom gets to her feet in one swift movement, that cold remark easily hitting a tender spot.  
>"Thank you for all your help"." She spits nastily and storms out of the badly decorated office, calling for me to follow.<br>"Goodbye!" I smile cheerily, waving animatedly at the sadistic duo of Young and Smith.  
>I pause at the doorway, turning back around and raise my right hand, flipping them off with an overjoyed smile. They gasp, clearly horrified and I feel proud.<p>

So long bitches…It`s has certainly interesting.

Of course, getting booted out of school for the sixth (now seventh) time in just over three years was nothing to be proud of, and smoothing things over with Mom would be no picnic, but I was just so happy to be out of there.

Mum slams the car door shut behind her and waits for me to get in, tapping her long pink nails against the wheel impatiently, frostily glaring at the windscreen in front of her. I slide in hesitantly in the back, deciding against sitting next to her and sling my bag onto the seat next to me.

"Well, let`s hear it." She snaps, putting the car into drive, knuckles pale white from her vice like grip on the wheel.

Now is when the shouting usually happens, followed by the flood of disappointed tears. Bitter old virgin school teachers didn`t scare me, in fact, I love ruffling their feathers, but my mother _did_ scare me. After the tears there would be more yelling, followed by empty threats of sending me back to live with my Grandfather. The last time I had stayed there had been two years ago. I was fourteen and recently had started hanging out with some unsavoury characters, not that my current choice of friends were any better. In fact they were worse. Anyway, to impress this girl, Meg, I had snuck out of my Granddad`s house well after curfew, stolen his wallet from the nightstand, and climbed out the window. Blown over a hundred dollars on cheap booze, the guy behind the counter not even caring to ID me, even though he knew I was well underage. Needless to say, I wasn`t invited back.

I sit there in silence, wanting to ask her to put the radio on, but I daren`t chance it. I risk a glance over at her, and she just seems to be getting even more furious. I remember how mad she was after my second exclusion, I had never seen anything like it. Cups hit the wall, plates were smashed and she was screaming and crying at the same time. That was better than this cold silence though. At least I knew what was going through her mind if she was screaming.

"This is your last chance Dean, Ms Young has assured me that if you step one more toe out of line you will be sent packing faster than you can blink!"

I had promised her I would try better, keep my head down, and work hard. Like all my promises, I had meant them at the time, but somewhere along the way they became nothing more than twisted lies, broken and forgotten.

We pull up outside the house, and she gets out, grabbing her designer handbag from the passenger seat and storms inside, not waiting for me. I sigh, taking a moment to prepare myself for the battle that was sure to begin as soon as I stepped inside.


	2. Dont walk away

I grudgingly get out of the car and follow her inside, backpack slung over one shoulder. Looks like I wouldn`t be needing it for a few days at least. I am sorely tempted to just run down the cracked driveway, off down the street and never look back. The once snowy white net curtain that had definitely seen better day's twitches, and the car bleeps behind me and flashes twice, locking. Once inside I hang up my black leather jacket and throw my black boots in the cupboard. I didn`t chicken out and run, obviously. Oh but I wanted to.

"So," Mom says at last tiredly, pouring coffee into a novelty Christmas mug with Rudolph on that I had gotten her five years ago as a gift. Before everything had went up in flames and burnt away into ruin. "Another broken promise I see. Another perfectly good school overjoyed to see the back of you."

I stare at the ground dejectedly, doing my best to ignore her.

"Are you trying to set some kind of crazy record for how many schools you can get kicked out of or something?!" her usually calm voice is raised, but she isn`t quite shouting. Not yet anyway.

I regret my words instantly. "That`s a little unfair, don`t you think? There must be a crap load of schools in the state I haven`t been chucked out of yet." I want to slap my calloused hand across my big fat pie hole and have the fluffy white carpet swallow me up whole. Of course, what I want never matters.

"This is a new personal best, even for you." She rants on as though hadn`t spoken, her eyes blazing. "School only started two months ago and already they gave you the axe. What am I supposed to do with you?" she questions the silent room, shaking her head angrily, long tangled hair flying around her pretty face.

"I didn`t mean to-"

She raises a well-manicured hand to silence me and collapses down on the charcoal leather sofa. "I hope you are proud of yourself, because I`m not."

I suppose I was in a way.

"I don`t even know you anymore. Why does everything have to be a constant battle with you, Dean? Do you hate me that much? Or is this still about John? Because if it is then this is just _pathetic_."

I explode. She had no right to bring _him_ into this. No fucking right.

"Oh yeah?! Pathetic?! What the fucking hell do you know, mom?!" it was out of line, I know. I was just digging myself in deeper, but I couldn`t bring myself to care at that moment in time.

Her eyes have closed and she has kicked of her shoes. Two long professionally painted fingers gently massage her temple. "I meant it when I said this was your last chance." She continues, ignoring my fiery outburst. "You need help, Dean and I am at my wits end. I just don`t know what to do anymore." She moans and I feel even worse.

I shuffle my feet uncomfortably, the big toe on the right peeking out from a whole in the Batman socks I was wearing. I want to speak up, say something to make it all better, but I don`t know what to say. So I stay quiet. What could I even say? I mean really? "Sorry I`m suck a fuck up?" That wasn`t going to cut it. Not this time. I knew that.

"You`ve made it quite clear I`m not good enough, Dean, made it painfully obvious that you can`t stand living here with me. You can`t stay out of trouble for a minute, your grades are abysmal and your so called friends are demons. One of them is even called Lucifer for goodness sake! What am I supposed to do?"

"His name is Luke mum, Lucifer is just-"

"What? A very fitting nickname?" She scoffs.

"Mum, one more chance," I plead. "I promise, I double promise that this time I won`t mess it up." I try and flash her my winning smile, but it comes out as some weak imitation.

She sighs tiredly and shakes her head for what felt like the hundredth time that hour. "I meant it Dean, no more last chances. I have had enough."

Enough? Like as in enough of me. That stung more than I would care to admit.

You need a complete fresh start, to get out of Kansas and go someplace new. "  
>"Fresh start?" I question dubiously. Was she finally going to make good of her boarding school threat? Or cart me off to live with some distant family member again? "Not Granddad's again, right? He hates my guts anyway and besides, I was miserable there!"<p>

"No Dear, not Granddad's." she bites her painted lip, looking anxious now instead of pissed. "I know we agreed to never have anything to do with him ever again, but that was a very long time ago and well, you leave me with no other choice."

She takes a steadying breath.

And that is when she lets the bomb go. "No arguing now, Dean. You are going to live with your father."

World War Three erupts in the living room then. All guns were blazing, nukes were going off, the whole nine yards.

"No fucking way." I tell her angrily, "You can`t make me do this."

"You are going to live with your dad and that is final. My mind is made up, Dean." Then as though she hadn`t just said the cruellest, most life ruining sentence ever, she calmly sits up and turns on the television, before settling on some crappy hospital drama.

"There is no way in all of Hell that I am going to live with that traitorous, good for nothing, deserting bastard!"

She responds by turning to volume up to try and tune me out.

"He left us!" I scream at the top of my lungs, the shock quickly being replaced by anger and hatred for the disgusting man I refused to call my father. We may unfortunately share blood, but he was nothing to me, Certainly NOT my father. "He walked out on us when I was a kid, just left us a note on the fridge next to my sporting certificate and just drove off in that damned car of his one day and never looked back! He doesn`t care about either of us, not you and certainly not me."

I can still remember the day clearly. Mom weeping brokenly in the kitchen, her beautiful face stained with black tears from where her make-up had ran, eyes all red and puffy. A sheet of A4 lay abandoned on the table in front of her, crumped and torn and tearstained.

"That was years and years ago." As if that made his betrayal any better.

"Exactly!" I agree with her, "Years and years ago. I was twelve Mom, twelve years old when he abandoned me. Three weeks after my birthday."

I had been too young to really understand what was going on. All I knew was that my Dad had left me and I was screaming at Mom for hours to try and get her to make him come back.

He never did. Not once.

Sure, he sent the occasional letter accompanied with a card on Christmas and my birthday, but that was it. No visits or anything. Those went straight in the bin, but not before I shredded them into tiny, insignificant little pieces first. Tiny and insignificant, just the way I had felt. The same way he had made me feel.

"He didn`t leave because of you, honey. Your Dad loved you very much, he still does." She tries to explain gently and forces out a weak, unconvincing smile which I scoff at.

"You said we would never have to see him again. You called him all of the nasty names under the sun, don`t you remember? You hate him as much as I do." I argue desperately.

"He just didn`t love me. People fall out of love sometimes it does happen. Real life is never like the movies. And it sucks, but that`s just the way things are sometimes. He isn`t a bad man and I was wrong to say all the horrible things I said about him, especially wrong to say them in front of you. I`m sorry."

It was too late for apologies. To damn late. No one was ever sorry, not really. Only when they got found out. When _he_ first left he tried to contact me all the time, I never picked up. Pretty soon he got the message and stopped calling.

"But you did say them." I tell her smugly. "And they were all true." Each and every bitter, hate fuelled word. My d-John Winchester was a heartless, deserting dickhead. A terrible husband and a crappy father. We were better off without him. I was happier without him.

And that was just the saddest lie I have ever heard.

"You have to be joking. You hate him as much as I do. He ran out on us to be with some bitch and her snot nosed sprog. How can you ever forgive that?!"

"Honey, I am sorry you feel that way, but it is decided. You need to get out of Kansas, maybe you were right when you said months ago that there is nothing left for you here. I think being with your dad again will-"  
>"What?" I hiss. "Be good for me?"<p>

That is when I lose it and just start screaming, hurling curses out of my mouth and lashing out at whatever I can reach. The cushions get it first. Purple and black satin things with diamanté spirals are chucked against the wall. I watch with deep satisfaction as a framed photo on a shelf tumbles down to the floor and smashes. I kick over the coffee table, Mom`s phone and unpaid bills flying everywhere.

I wander over to the broken frame and carefully rip out the old school photograph. A young boy with bright eyes and a dusting of freckles grins up at me, missing three of his front teeth. I must have been around ten in that photo. How was I supposed to know that in just two short years my entire world was going to be disturbed? Because of him I felt torn apart and wrecked, just left bloody and wounded on the floor, waiting and praying foolishly for him to come back.

I gave up praying a long time ago.


	3. Aiport

The next two weeks race by in a flash, each day blurring together into one big fit of arguments, refusing to pack, more tantrums, saying my goodbyes to my no good friends and getting wasted with Luke, Crowley and my on and off again girlfriend/friends with benefits Lisa. Eventually I begin to pack the night before, finally realising there was no getting away from my dreadful fate. Mom comes in each morning, threatens that if I don`t start to pack, she will do it for me and dump whatever won`t fit and then I yell at her and the bombs start exploding all over again.I throw jeans, most of them ripped at the knees and a big pile of freshly laundered shirts into a massive black suitcase. It is the same one I had lugged behind me when I was banished to live with Granddad and it makes me feel physically sick to look at it. I bag up my toiletries from the shared bathroom, leaving out just enough for the next morning and splash my face with cool water from the tap. These too find their way into the case, which stands guard in my doorway, the contents stacked messily inside.

This had been my room for nearly four years now, and I loved it. Moving sucked. No matter how careful you were, you always lost something important. Last time it had been my extensive CD collection. I was distraught at first, but then mum got me an IPod to replace my old dusty player. I never did end up buying the albums again though, not after I remembered who the one responsible for getting me into all of those old bands , angry rock music was screeching out of the tiny speakers connected to my IPod and I turn it up louder to discourage her even further from coming in. I hear footsteps coming up the stairs muted a little by the soft cream carpet. They pause briefly outside of my door, then continue down the landing and to the left into the larger bedroom. I grin, satisfied that my plan had worked. For now at least.

Dinner is left outside the door, the mouth-watering scent of homemade chips drenched in salt, sausages, yolky egg and warm buttered toast wafting into the room from the gap under the door. Aware that is was a peace offering, I try to ignore it, but I hadn`t eaten all day. In fact I had barely eaten all week and was ravenous. I slowly open the door, looking right and left to see if she was outside, and grab the plate, practically pouncing on it, devouring it entirely in mere minutes.

I finish packing quickly, throwing my chargers, another pair of nearly bran new shoes and a few extra pair of boxers into the case and slam it shut, ready to be taken downstairs in the morning. Once more I hear mom`s soft footsteps on the staircase. This time when she pauses outside she knocks twice, very timidly.

"Piss off!" I scowl at the door, wishing I had some super cool laser eye power so I could just burn two holes in the door and right through her non existing heart.

She ignores me and comes in anyway, picking up the overflowing suitcase and placing it outside.

"Your plane leaves at ten AM tomorrow. I have taken the day off of work tomorrow so I can take you there." She tells me sternly. "Be ready. I will wake you so you don`t oversleep."

Damn bitch didn`t even trust me to set my alarm and get up in the morning? Well there goes my plans of "accidentally" sleeping through my alarm, thus causing me to miss my plane. I glare at her and nod once. Mom never took time off work, it just proved how eager she was to cart me off to someplace else far away from her. A whole God Damned ocean away from her.

Before the divorce wad even finalised, Dickhead Dad had swanned off to bloody England where his new tart, Kate Milligan was originally from. They had met at his garage. Winchester`s Auto Repairs it was called. Not the most original title, I`ll grant you, but I spent a good chunk of my childhood at that place. I loved it. He had promised me that it was all going to be mine one day, my empire of rusted old bangers and oil spills. He didn`t make a whole lot of money, just enough to get by, but he loved his work and we had food on the table and a roof over our head and we were one big happy family.

Then _she _came along and ruined it all.

She sashayed in, all big boobs and a winning smile and turned his head. Two months after she got her claws into him and he was leaving us. Last I heard he was living in some little town in England, with two new kids. His new big happy family. And me? Well I was just the bratty little sprog he forgot. And here I was showing up again for years later on his doorstep like a misdirected parcel.

Mom takes me to the airport the next morning. She hands me my passport, money to get a snack before take-off and kisses me goodbye something I do not appreciate. We make small talk over breakfast. Or rather she tries to, but I just cut her off with a snarl or point blank ignore her.

"This is for the best, you`ll see."

"Yeah, the best for you. Like everyone else in my life, you`ve gotten sick of me so you are shipping me off to someone I haven`t seen in years, who I hate and who hates me, just because you have had enough of me." I snap, pushing my soggy food around on the chipped plate. "But yeah, I`m sure it is for the best."

She was the one calling the shots here, the one with the choices. Sure, maybe I hadn`t been making the best decisions lately, what with all the drinking, bad behaviour, getting expelled and Lisa`s pregnancy scare last month, but at least I was only hurting myself, fucking up my own future.

We get in the car shortly after and before we get out she puts an arm on my shoulder.

"Now Dean, I know you aren`t exactly thrilled about this situation."  
>I smirk, "No way! Whatever could have given you that idea?" I snort unattractively.<p>

She goes on like I hadn`t make a sound. "But John is overjoyed that you are going to live with him and this really is your last chance now, so I expect to hear from him that you have been keeping in line."She goes quiet for a moment, tucking a strand of silky hair behind her ear. "And another thing. I haven`t exactly told John about the whole gay thing and you know how traditional he can be, so I was thinking that maybe – not forever- just for a little while, you could keep that well-"

As fun as it was to watch her babble uncomfortably, I had to set the record straight. No pun intended. "Mom, for the last time, what happened with me and Lucif-Luke that one time was nothing. We were drunk and well." I sigh. "I am not gay, I like chicks, not dicks."

She sighs as well, but thankfully drops it and gets my luggage from the back of the car. We make our way through the airport in silence before reaching my destination.

"Oh Honey, I am going to miss you so much!" she lies, looking all teary eyed as she embraces me. "Now I can`t actually drag you onto that plane, Dean, but I am expecting you to do the grown up thing here." She warms. "If I find out that you ran off and didn`t board I will be livid. So just keep that in mind."

I nod solemnly, knowing running off was just useless. Knowing my mom she had probably phoned up the airline and bribed an air stewardess to keep an eye on my and make sure I got on the plane. She hugs me one last time and then she is gone, merged in with the extensive crowds. I board the enormous plane, a feeling of dread sinking in that wasn`t just done to my fear of flying. Two old ladies doused head to toe in the sickly sweet duty free perfume squeeze in next to me and offer me a hard boiled sweet, which I kindly decline. Sure, I was seriously pissed off, but I wasn`t going to take out my problem on some sweet old ladies who were only being friendly, if a little irritating.

"First time flying is it Dearie?" The one with silvery curls and expensive looking reading glasses asks me softly, offering a shy smile.

I just nod and force a smile back, wanting the journey to just be over already. My chest ached, my throat was dry, unlike my prickly feeling eyes and my heart kept doing these weird splutters thumps from its new spot inside my sore throat. I sure hope I wasn`t coming down with something.

Despite my worst fears, the plane doesn`t crash land into the ocean, instead it lands safely in a bottlenecked airport. I let my luggage circle the carousel three times before dragging the bags and case off and onto a trolley. In the distance, through the slowly dispersing crowd I spot a familiar figure dressed in a worn black leather jacket similar to mine and my heart splutters uneasily and my chest tightens. There is nowhere I can hide, so I just stand and wait as he strolls casually towards me. I am still tired and rumpled from the flight and I am so not ready for this.

"Dean!" He smiles, patting me once on the shoulder.

I stiffen and fix my face into a cold mask of indifference, green eyes narrowed at the jacket he wore so similar to my own. Anyone walking by would think we were like any other father and son who loved each other and I hated that.

"I`ve missed you so much, kid. Come on," he says, grabbing my heavy case, despite my protests that I could do it myself. I mean did he think I was still that scrawny little kid he abandoned? I don`t know, it had been a long time, maybe he did.

"Let`s go home."


	4. Here I am

Think of a young bright eyed boy with a cheeky grin and scraped up knees. The kind of kid that always worked hard in school, all of his teachers simply doted on him and he was loved by all of his classmates. That was me. No joke. Honest. I lived with my parents, who I practically worshiped, my dad in particular, in a three bedroom semi dethatched house in the middle of super friendly neighbourhood. Mom and dad took it in turns picking me up from school and afterschool sports clubs, I was off round at my best friend`s house every Tuesday and on Thursday he came to us for dinner and swimming lessons.I adored my mother, she was kind and gentle and gave the best hugs. The kind of hugs that warmed you up from the inside and made you feel all snuggly and warm. I loved my mom, but my dad was always the one I was closest to. He was my hero. Most kids my age would have said Batman was theirs, and while he was awesome, he didn`t hold a candle to my daddy.

Most weekends were spent holed up at his garage, reading car magazines (or rather, looking at the pictures) helping him clean up the shop at the end of the day and sometimes, if I was lucky, he would even let me help him out as he worked on his own car. A beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala with shiny black paintwork and despite her age, not a single dent or mark. All in all, she was a pretty badass work of art. It was going to be all mine one day, so I had to learn to treat her good, he would tell me with a great big grin on his face. I couldn`t be happier. Yeah, he was a doofus, but back then I didn`t care. He was a doofus, he was goofy and always covered in some kind of oily stain, but he was my doofus. My hero. I was the luckiest kid in the world and I didn`t even know it, but somewhere an unseen clock was ticking, counting down the seconds until the crash.

He just left me. Not one word, just a poxy little note and poof! Gone.

Well that was just fine. I didn`t care. I don`t care. I don`t need him, not anymore. I didn`t need him when I was sent off to live with grouchy old Granddad, or when mom started working late all the time or when Lisa thought she was pregnant (and thankfully wasn`t!) I didn`t need him then, and I certainly don`t need him now. I`m doing just fine without him, Okay, well maybe not fine, but I`m getting by.

…

The drive back from the airport is pure hell on wheels. I had to bite back a smile when he slung my bags in the trunk of the Impala. She hadn`t aged a day, still as beautiful as when I last saw her. I wonder briefly if he had promised her one of his other two sprogs. He and his new tart had two children, Sam and Adam. I wonder if he finally got that big garage he was always talking about, if he had a great big crew working under him.

"The house isn`t too far," he says cheerfully, trying to meet my eye, but I turn away. "Over an hour away yet though."

I continue to stare straight ahead, watching the scenery go past. Or not, seeing as we were stuck in a seemingly never ending traffic jam.

"Least it will give us a chance to chat, huh?" he smiles hopefully, the same smile from long ago and I feel sick again, heart suddenly deciding to do all kinds of acrobatic flips and twists in my chest.

Eventually the worst of the congestion clears and we are heading out of the city. Norwich, I think it was called. Weird name. We reach the outskirts of the bustling city and drive down a much quieter country road decorated with quaint little cottages, each with a colourful hanging basket of flowers swinging by their front doors. Bored, and with my behind going numb from all the sitting, I turn my IPod up a little louder and read the street signs as we drive past at a leisurely pace. Penny Lane, Church Lane, Sycamore Crescent who the hell comes up with these stupid names?

"Kate, Sam and Adam are all really looking forward to meeting you, ya know? Sam is the oldest." He tells me and I ignore him easily. "Well he and Adam insisted that we decorate the house to celebrate."

Oh how sweet. It was really, but I quickly push that reluctant admission from my mind, once again focusing on the bizarre street names. Windmill Avenue, Beach Road, what`s the hell is going to be next? Fish N Chip Boulevard?

He sighs and runs a rough, calloused hand through his greying tangle of dark hair. "You`re going to have to talk to me sometime you know, kid, may as well be now."

I almost bite out "Oh yeah? Want to bet?" but thankfully stop myself in time.

"So what do you want to talk about?" He asks casually, too damn casually for someone who I had not had any contact from since I was twelve. His unreturned letters didn`t count. "Now would be a great time to chat and catch up, before you meet the others."

Okay, here is a nice catch up chat, right? Fuck off and die. I think it, but don`t say it. I just didn`t have the energy to argue right now.

"It`s a lovely house, about ten, maybe fifteen minutes away from the ocean." He tells me and I yawn to show how much I cared.

The car grinds to a halt in front of a picturesque red bricked house. Rainbow, half circle flowerbeds and potted plants fill up a good portion of the garden and a squeaky old swing set sways lazily in the early summer breeze in the far corner. A neatly trimmed, lush green lawn complete with a large fish pond lead up to the impressive front porch, where -gulp- a group of three people were sat waiting, ready to traitor empties the trunk of my belongings and carries them up to the door placing them down just long enough to embrace the woman and the two other young boys.

"Come on Dean, they don`t bite!" John calls back to me laughing, as he places my bags inside.

Too bad I think, because I do.


	5. New beginnings

I reluctantly follow him and the three strangers into the red bricked house, scowling at the brightly coloured welcome mat, making sure to stomp on it much harder than necessary as I wipe my feet. The mouth-watering scent of chicken and gravy wafts down the cream coloured hallway, decorated with arty canvas print. I am led past several paintings of quaint beaches and green country gardens and into the equally perfectly decorated kitchen. I am greeted with big hopeful smiles, the two kids shuffling their trainer clad feet a little awkwardly as they glance up at their parents for reassurance. Rainbow magnetic letters spell out "Welcome home, Dean," on the enormous fridge freezer. They and a couple of other magnets hold up terrible drawings and paintings presumably done by the youngest brat, Adam.

"Dean, this is Sam, the oldest," He points to a gangly boy with a long tangle of soft brown hair and big wide eyes. He was much older than I had expected. "He is thirteen. Adam is seven." A small blonde boy wearing an oversized superhero shirt waves shyly at me, but I barely notice.

"You said Sam is thirteen? So that means I was three when he was born, right? But you didn`t swan off until I was twelve, so how the hell can he be that old!?"

It dawns on me and I feel the bile rise in my throat and my eyes dampen. I hastily wipe the newly forming tears away with my grey sleeve and replace the hurt puppy look with one of disgust."So that time when you met her," I say the tart`s name like a curse, "wasn`t the first time." I glare over at them both in turn, green eyes narrowed with hatred and fury.

"Dean, well you see…"He fumbles with his jacket uncomfortably, placing it down on the granite worktop. Good, I was happy I was making things awkward for him.

"So you were cheating on Mom since I was a baby?"I don`t yell, even though I wanted to. I don`t lose my temper and starting kicking and screaming. I was too tired after the journey from hell I thought would never end.

"I-It wasn`t like that!" He tries to insist, while Kate quietly ushers the two children into the living room, shutting the door gently behind them.

"Oh yeah? What you kept accidentally going to the wrong house and accidently having sex with the wrong woman?"

He sighs, "Look, Dean, I was scared. I wasn`t ready for such a serious commitment with your mother. I met Kate while she was on holiday at a bar and we ended up sleeping together." He tells me, flushing a little red. "It was a one time only thing. I didn`t even know about Sammy until I met her again years later when she brought her car to the shop. Honest. I am so, so sorry, Dean, I never meant to hurt you."

I raise one hand to silence him. "Just don`t alright? I don`t want to hear your half assed apologies." I smile bitterly, "Your words don`t mean jack shit to me, got it old man?" I sneer, then storm out of the room and collected my bags and begin lugging them upstairs. It was difficult, but I somehow managed. I certainly wasn't going to ask _him_ for assistance.

"Your room is the last one on the left!" He shouts up after me.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and give it a quick once over. The walls were a sky blue and several black wooden shelves had been put up. A slightly unstable looking matching bookcase stood in the right corner next to a large chest of draws. Two large windows overlooked the extensive back garden. A deflated football and rusted metal goalpost stood a little wonkily at the far side, and several potted plants and flower baskets were dotted around. An even larger pond took up a good portion of the right side and a gazebo decorated with even more flowers and hanging baskets that sway lazily in the breeze. In the distance I could just about see a grey stretch of water, which I presumed to be the sea. It looked bleak and desolate.

I unpack slowly, not having anything better to do. I really didn`t want to go back down and face them anytime soon. Or ever, if I had my way. Which face it, was not likely to happen. If I had my way, John Asshole Winchester would never have met Kate Milligan and they would never have had Sam or Adam and he would never have ran off and replaced me. Then there would have been no need for mom to have sent me off to a different fucking country, putting an entire Ocean between us just because she didn`t want to deal with me anymore. I throw my clothes into the draws carelessly and in case either of the little brats came snooping, hide my laptop in the bottom draw under my favourite Metallica shirt. My handful of books fit easily on the bookcase and then I was done. I didn`t bring a lot, because I am not planning on staying long. A month or two at the most and they will be begging mom to take me back. Grovelling like pathetic little worms on their knees. That I couldn't wait to see.

I collapse down on my bed, not even bothering to change, just kicking of my jeans and fall asleep on top of the fresh covers. I don`t wake up until twelve in the afternoon the next day. I sit up groggily and straight away notice a floral plate piled high with sandwiches and smokey bacon flavour crisps. Confused, but too hungry to think too much of it, I stuff the food into my mouth, barely taking the time to chew before swallowing. Then I reluctantly pull on my jeans from yesterday, deciding to shower when I am fully awake and take the empty dish downstairs.

"Good afternoon, Dean!" the tart smiles at me and happily takes the plate from me and places it in the sink to be washed up later.

I grunt some kind of reply.

"That was Sam who took that up to you this morning before school. He was worried that you hadn`t eaten dinner last night so he insisted on making you something to eat. He got up an extra twenty minutes early to prepare the sandwiches for you. Insisted on doing it all himself too. Adam was the one who gave you about ten bags of crisps though." She smiles fondly.

I just not absently, wondering why the hell those two brats gave a damn about me. After all, I hadn`t been too pleasant to them so far. Weird.

I walk into the living room and plonk my ass down in front of the television, settling on a bloody action movie.

"John is just nipping to get some shopping, he normally does after dropping the kids of at school." She smiles awkwardly, twiddling her thumbs. "Just in case you were wondering where he was."

"I don`t care where that bastard is."

She visibly pales. "Okay, well can I get you anything? Help you unpack?"

I shake my head. "I`m good." I felt bad, but there was no point no trying to be nice and make friends. She was the evil tart who had helped to ruin my childhood and I wasn`t about to forget that.


	6. Uniform

John comes back a few hours later. I glance at the clock on the elaborate mantelpiece. It was just after three. I hear the engine of the Impala as it approaches from halfway down the street and hastily race up the cream carpeted stairs before he could see me. The front door opens with a loud creak just as I switch on my IPod, one earbud dangling around my neck, the other black bud nestled snugly in my right ear.

"Dean! Your father is home!" the stupid tart calls far too cheerily from the bottom of the staircase.

I stay silent and place the other earbud in my ear and turn up the volume till it nearly deafens me. Hearing was overrated anyway.

"Dean?" There is a hesitant knock at the door. Kate then, definitely not John."Dean, John is home and he wants to talk to you about school."

School. Fun. Even more of a reason not to go downstairs and face the deserter. Even I knew it was pointless staying holed up in my room though. Like or not I had to go to school and I didn`t feel like having a shouting match through my bedroom door. I was too tired. My chest was still tight and achey. I really think I was coming down with some rare kind of illness. Not that anyone would care. Not Mom, nor John and his tart or his spawn and certainly not any of my so called "friends" back home. I open the door reluctantly, nod sharply at Kate and storm right past her. I pause before entering the living room, suddenly taking an interest in the arty-farty image of the London Eye taken at night time. John was lounging about on a beige leather chair, his boot clad feet resting on a pile of magazines perched precariously on the ringed coffee table. They ranged from fashion magazines to interior decorating and superhero comics I assumed were Adams`s. John looks up and smiles widely as soon as I walk in with my head held high and trademark couldn`t care less smirk. I flop down on the couch opposite and grab the remote from where it sat on the centre of the table. His eye twitches but he says nothing. Smart move old man.

"So, Dean you are probably wondering about where you will be going to school."

"Nope." I emphasis the "p" drawing it out.

He ignores me, but I was used to that.

"You have been enrolled in the same secondary school as Sam. I just went to pick up your timetable," he gets to his feet and picks up a crisp white sheet of paper that I hadn`t noticed before from the table and hands it to me. "And your uniform."

Kate wanders in all smiles, holding two plastic bags. She places them on the couch next to me before excusing herself to go and pick up Adam and Sam. I reluctantly look inside, ripping open the plastic that contained the stiff white shirts and trousers. I was no expert, nor did I have a love of clothing or read Vogue religiously (or at all) but I was fairly sure this was not a rocking look. Form fitting, straight legged trousers in black, white cotton button up shirts with a single pocket on the left paired with ridiculously boring black lace up shoes. The kind your granddad would wear. And to top it all off was a maroon coloured blazer with the school`s crest sewn on with elaborate black stitching.

John forces a smile. "See, very smart." Even he didn't`t sound convinced by his words.

I shrug, shoving the offending items back in the bag.

"They understand that you need a few days to adjust to your new home, get over jetlag and all that so you start on Monday. New week, fresh start and all of that."

I nod, absently fiddling with the handles on the bag. A new school meant more curious people, more pitying teachers and more questions to answer. Kids weren`t stupid. They knew that if someone was starting this late in the year then you had to have some kind of story, probably a juicy one and they couldn`t wait to drag it out of you. Booted out of your last school? Cool. Broken home? Awesome. Freak? Weirdo? Issues? Loser? All the better.

I spend the rest of the week and weekend holed up in my new room for the most part, eating my meals upstairs and only venturing downstairs to get more drinks or to find towels for the shower. John tries to talk to me a few times, even tries to force me out once, but Kate convinces him to let me have some space and that I would warm up to him in time. Ha! Fat chance. I appreciated her getting him to back off though, not that I was going to tell her that. Sam knocks on the door a few times, normally carrying some kind of snack and wearing a nervous, shy smile. Adam was usually hiding behind him. After the third time I gave up on telling them to leave me alone and accepted the food with an even shyer smile.

Monday rolls by quicker than I had feared and all too soon I am being screamed at by my phone alarm informing me that it was half past seven and I had to get up. I was most definitely not a morning person. Having already showered last night I wander over to the chest of draws, rummage around for a bit and finally find a suitable shirt. It was grey and had the lyrics from "Highway to Hell," scrawled across it. From another draw I pull out old grey boxers and faded jeans. I dress in a hurry and throw my fully charged cell phone and Ipod into the new Metallica messenger bag that Mom had gotten me as a going away "don't hate me, pretty please forgive me and go quietly" and Adam are already nearly finished with their cereal by the time I come downstairs, jacket and boots already on and ready to go. I couldn`t wait to start my first day in HellSchool.


	7. Bunking Off

**Hey there! Sorry this took so long. Christmas and illness just stopped me in my tracks. I hope you all had a wonderful time celebrating whatever holiday it is you and your loved ones celebrate. This is pretty long to try and make up for that. I had reviews asking is Cas is going to show up soon, and I am happy to tell you he will show up in the next chapter. **

Kate smiles warmly, if not a little shyly as soon as she sees my standing in the arched doorway that lead into the kitchen. Her soft hair was tied back into a neat ponytail, a few light stands escaping as she scrubbed up a milk stain left by Adam."Good morning Dean!" She practically sings as she gathers up both of the younger boy`s plates and dumps them into the sink to be washed later. "John can do that later, it`s his turn." She tells me, before dashing over to check on the toaster.

I have never understood that phrase. "Good morning?" what is so great about the mornings? Nothing, I tell you!

I don`t say anything and plonk my tired ass down on a spare seat next to Sam, who smiles at me from behind a brown tangle of brown bed hair. Kate fusses over him with a comb she magics up out of her designer handbag on the counter. "Sorry about this," she grins when the hair finally is beaten into submission, much to the thirteen year old's horror. "School mornings around here are pretty hectic."

I shrug and tuck into the plate of golden brown toast she places in front of me, eagerly licking the excess butter from my fingers. Screw manners.

A dark, evil raincloud passes in front of the kitchen doorway, blocking out the light from the hallway in the form of one deserting dickhead, John Winchester. "You about ready to go boys? It`s nearly ten past eight you had better leave soon if you are walking." He says, pinching the last piece of deliciously, buttery bread from my plate. I am sorely tempted to stab him with my butter knife, but he is too quick. I know I will have better luck next time.

"Oh dad, do we have to walk?" Sam grumbles, pulling a face. Hey, if I had legs that long and was likely to trip over them all the time like he did, I would have an aversion to walking too.

"Yes, I have to go in early to cover for that new kid, Garth. Bloody useless he is! A terrible mechanic and he can`t even bothered to have the courtesy phone in sick."

Groaning and muttering something about getting his backpack, Sam gets up from the breakfast table. Adam, ever the faithful puppy dog, swigs down the last of his orange juice and follows him, the shoe laces on the light up trainers he was wearing, trailing behind him.

"I`m going to wait outside for them." I tell the tart and the asshole, grabbing my bag from off of the floor.

A well-muscled arm stop me in my tracks. "Change, Dean. You know where your uniform is."

I am about to protest, but think better of it when I see his face and trudge back upstairs to get it. Deciding I have time for a quick drink while I wait on Sam and Adam I get a bottle of coke from beside my bed. Being the clumsy boy that I am, I accidently miss my mouth and drench the god awful uniform in the sticky, dark liquid. Grinning to myself I make my way back downstairs, still dressed in my ripped jeans and faded band shirt. The ruined uniform held safely in my arms as I climb the final stair. Adam`s eyes go wide when he sees what I have done.

"Mum and Dad are going to be really mad." He tells me, eyes going eve wider with fear. I remember when I was seven and mum and dad being mad at me felt lie it was the worst thing that could possibly happen to me. Man, was I a fool.

Sam seems to find it funny though, and flashes me a big grin which quickly fades away when John walks out of the kitchen into the hallway.

"Go on boys, it is quarter past eight you need to be leaving. Dean, I thought I told you to change." His eyes fall on the sticky white shirt held in my arms and he sighs. "I`ll write a note for today, but tomorrow it will be clean and you _will_ wear it." He slams the front door shut behind him and I hear the engine start.

The walk to school wasn`t too bad. I had to walk with Sam and Adam because I had no idea where the hell I was going, but it turns out the primary school was only ten minutes away. We see Adam into the bustling playground and he waves us off before running off with two other boys his own age.

"Sam, how much further is it to our school?"

His jaw threatens to drop. I try to recall what I have said to him in the past few days, but can only remember a few mumbled thanks here and there.

"Not far. Do you see that play park just down the road?" he points to an empty children`s park with a sad looking swing set and I nod. "It is just on the other side of that. Probably only another five minutes if we keep dragging our feet like we have been doing."

"I just realised I forgot my pens. I`m gonna run back to the house, won't be long." There was just no way I was going to school today.

Sam seems unconvinced, but doesn`t make a big effort to convince me to keep walking with him."Mum-Sorry, I mean Kate might still be home, she does a mix of days and nights down at the doctor`s clinic and the hospital. I can never remember what shift she is on." He scratches the back of his head awkwardly and chuckles.

"I won`t be long, I can`t go without anything to write with, can I? Need to make a good impression on my first day." I rigidly raise one arm up to wave at him, then run off back down the street the way we had come.

The house was silent when I got in, Kate must be out or maybe even having a nap if she worked nights too. I could just stay in my room all day and if anyone did come home and found me here, I could say I felt ill. It wouldn't be a total lie. That ache in my chest hadn`t lessened since I had arrived and I felt queasy whenever I looked at anyone.

My freedom didn`t last long. I hear the front door open and my stomach sinks. My door slams open with a loud bang.

"Dean Winchester!" John growls, with a face like thunder.

I don`t even bother to tell him that my name isn't Winchester. I am not part of his stupid little happy family and I never want to be. He wouldn't listen.

Instead I snarl, "How the hell did you know I bunked off?"

"I got a friend who lives just down by the school named Bobby. He said he saw Sam walk by without you and phoned me up at work asking if I had given you a lift to school seeing as it was your first day." He explains getting angrier by the syllable. "Imagine my surprise when I come home and find you here."

I grab my bag from where I had carelessly dumped it on the bed and get to my feet. "Fine, I`ll go to stupid school."

"Damn right you will boy, and I am going to take you. C`mon. You might still make it for registration at five past nine."

I roll my eyes but follow him outside and into the beautiful car.

I feel sicker and sicker the closer we get to the school. I settle for fiddling with the zip on my jacket to keep myself distracted, but it doesn`t really work. He parks up opposite the impressive Victorian building, ignoring the double yellow lines. I get out and carefully close the door. I was pissed, but there was no well in hell I was going to take out my anger on that beautiful machine.I make my way into the intimidating building with my head held high, waiting until the hallway had cleared out before daring to glance at the map and timetable I had stuffed in my bag. I had registration in my form room first, then English with Miss. Hill. After that there was science in room S2 followed by a twenty minute break. I memorise each class number and work out how to get there, deciding to do the same for my next two classes during break. I would hide out in one of the bathrooms or something to do it. Being the new kid sucked, I wasn`t about to be pitied for getting lost or something.I saunter into classroom G13 with a lazy smirk on my face ten minutes late for registration. My new form tutor accepts my story of losing my map and lets me sit down. She was pretty, blonde with big boobs and blue eyes. I sit as far near the back as I can.

"Okay, guys." She beams at the bored and or sleeping students. "I told you we had a new addition to our class and here he is, Dean Winchester." She introduces me the same way you might introduce a family member you didn't know or like very much.

I wave at the class, who had all turned round to get a better look at the new kid. "It`s just Dean." I clarify. Asshole. I can't believe he enrolled me as a freakin` Winchester. I mean, sure it was legally still my name, but only an idiot wouldn`t know I felt about being grouped with him.

Oh wait.

He _is_ an idiot.

"Anyone who calls me Winchester will need a team of surgeons to remove their pencils from their asses." There is a nervous giggle from people who would like to think I was joking.

I assure you, I wasn`t.


	8. Runaway

The fact that I wasn`t wearing my uniform didn`t really help me to fit in. Or maybe it was the terrifying glare that I directed at anyone who dared risk coming up to talk to me that kept most of the other students at bay. I say most, because three people did dare to make that mistake. Idiot number one was your typical hot blonde. Big boobs, no brains and a shrill, whiney voice that hurt my ears. I seriously hadn`t heard such an irritating noise come from a female since the time Lisa had begged me to take her to see some crappy boyband for her birthday. That was the cause of our first break up. Her name was Rochelle, or Michelle. Or maybe just Ellie. I didn`t really pay much attention to her. Idiot number two was a quiet little geek. Idiot number three however, was much more interesting, but just as irritating as One, if not more. I didn`t have the honour of meeting him until after break.

My first proper lesson was English. Miss. Hill was clearly a very well-liked teacher, especially by the others guys in the class, who predictably were paying more attention to her tight fitting jumper than Hamlet. I somehow resisted the urge to kick my feet up on the rickety desk and feign a yawn. Classes in England were a far cry from what I was used to in good ol` America. For starters, some of the kids actually managed to look _almost_ interested. The cheap and nasty looking white clock struck half past ten just as she was finishing up explaining our homework sheet. It was a simple comprehension exercise on chapter's three to four of Hamlet, but I doubted I was going to bother and hand it in.

Science was, well science. Back at home, I was banned from doing any of the practical experiments. Ever since I had threatened to slice Luke`s face for hitting on my girl. He laughed and told me that I didn`t have the balls and then I kneed him in his. He never stopped laughing, even if it was a little higher in pitch. That was how we became friends, actually. I kicked him in the crotch and he laughed at me. Here though, science was even more rubbish. Copying out of a textbook for half an hour followed by drawing and labelling a plant's reproductive organs was not my idea of fascinating.

Break was fine, if a little lonely, but I was used to that. What I wasn`t used to was sitting alone on a wooden bench that hurt my butt the longer I sat on it watching everyone else walk by chatting with their friends. I had never spent a single break time alone before. My head was starting to ache a bit, just behind my eyes there was a niggling pain. I close my eyes to try and block out the background noise.

"Heya Dean."

Well, it was fine up until now anyway.

I recognise the voice as Sam`s, but my eyes remain closed. The darkness was helping a little.

"What`s wrong?" His voice was full of concern. "You don`t looks so good."

"Nothing's wrong, just a headache." I grunt, rubbing my temples, wishing he would just get the message and piss off.

"I can show you were the nurse is if you like?" He meant well, I know he did but why was this kid so incapable of understanding that I wanted to be left alone?

"Jesus, Sam. You sound like some girl with all your worrying." Not just the worrying. Had my voice seriously been that high when I was his age?

"I`m fine. Don`t believe me, that's fine, but ask again and I will start throwing punches."

Sam opens his mouth as if to say something, but seeing the irritated look on my face quickly snaps it shut again.

"Smart move, Kiddo."

He gets to his feet and I think he is going to leave but he only stretches, accidently hitting me in the side with one of his long, skinny arms. I would hate to have seen him in a fight. The boy was all legs and arms, tall and gangly, with a trusting, naïve puppy dog face. My old friends would have torn him to shreds in a heartbeat. Not that I would have cared, obviously. So what if he had been nothing but nice to me since I arrived. He was still the spawn, the demon child of my deserting ex-father and his new whore. He was one of them. Their perfect, beloved child. I bet he never got into any kind of trouble, his report card at the end of the academic year was probably glowing and filled with adoring comment like "A true joy to teach!" and "What an amazing future he has ahead of him." Not like mine which always went straight in the trash.

"Are you enjoying your first day?"

I open my eyes to scoff at him. "Oh yeah, tonnes." I roll my eyes. "School is school, Sam. This is the eighth school I`ve been to in three years."

His eyes widen as he looks over at me in awe from behind his floppy brown fringe. Hadn`t this guy ever hear of a thing called a haircut? "Eight schools?" He repeats, clearly shocked.

This was more familiar territory for me, not feeling guilty about whether I hurt some snot nosed kid`s feelings by being sharp with him.

"Yep. So there is no reason to believe I will be here for much longer than one of your silly little terms." I sneer at the English word and walk away, ignoring the hurt little sigh the younger boy makes. Why couldn`t they just say semester? It would make things a whole lot simpler.

After break things don`t improve.

I had been stuck in some lesson I had never even heard of before called Sociology. What the fuck was that? It didn`t even sound like a word, but more like two words just shoved together.

"Hello there guys! Lovely to see you all again. I hope you had a lovely weekend!" Well, she sure had to be the cheeriest teacher I had ever seen before.

Miss. Head was her name, and she was…interesting. Dressed in a long, flowing skirt the colour of red earth and a forest brown shawl. Long red hair cascaded down her back, with a few strands tucked up into a loose bun. She liked like a benign witch from some little kiddies fairy tale.

"Ah, you must be Dean, the new boy. It`s a pleasure to meet you. " Her smile was warm and welcoming, a few laughter lines crinkle by her eyes as her mouth widens. I felt uneasy. When was the last time somebody had smiled at me like that? As though it really was nice to see me.

She hands me a thick text book with a long winding title and I drop on the table in front of me. The light wood tables were laid out oddly. Not in rows of twos or in a big clump of tables and chairs. Each narrow, but long table was stood facing the centre of the room, with another one placed at either of its short sides. The final result was a giant rectangle outline that took up most of the space.

"I like it this was better. It means that everyone can see each other and I can see what you are all up to. It makes the room feel friendlier." She explains and walks back to the front of the classroom.

It didn`t feel very friendly to me. I was sat alone on the very end. The seat next to me was cold and empty. The person a seat down from the empty chair was a quirky red head who was doodling absentmindedly on her Star Wars notebook while Miss. Head sat at her desk waiting for her laptop to load up the PowerPoint she had prepared for us.

"My laptop hates Mondays too!" the middle aged woman laughs, and the young doodler laughs too, politely, before getting to her feet and asking if she could have a look at it. Turns out the laptop was working fine, just a little slow. The main problem was that she hadn`t switched the projector on the ceiling on.

I quickly learn that sociology wasn't all that bad.

"All it is really is the study of the structure, development and functioning of human society." The quirky redhead/doodler/tech wizard explains quietly to me when she sees me looking more than a little lost.

"Thanks." I mumble, and she shrugs it off, going back to taking notes in her notebook.

Everyone else seemed to be doing the same so I dig out my battered black notepad and take the lid of my pen. I only manage to write the date before the ballpoint drops from my trembling hand.

**Please turn to the appropriate chapter (9, page 132) **

**Sociology and your family. **

**-defining the family**

**-family and culture**

**-relationship preferences**

**-alternate family forms**

I had read enough.

"Dean, would you like to tell us about your family?" I had been so distracted by the text book that I hadn`t noticed the teacher sneaking up on me. Turns out while we were copying down the key points from the board or our text books she had been going around asking us about our families.

Well screw that, bitch.

I get to my feet with a loud screech of the chair, snatch my messenger bag from under the table and make a mad dash for my exit. An open window that must have recently been washed judging from the shine on it. It looked so inviting. I push it open and swiftly duck out, landing like a cat on all fours. Lucky for me we were on the lowest floor, though I doubted being on a higher floor would have stopped is on their feet now, faces pressed to the windows watching on, half shocked, half amused as I make my great escape.

"Dean Winchester! Come back here now!" The old bat screams, but I don`t hear her.

English schools were nothing like American schools. They didn't seem to care much for security. All there was between me and my freedom was a black gate that wasn`t too much taller than I was. Looks like you needed a pass to swipe, or you could just go over the top. I take a few long strides backwards, then make a run for it then leap at the black metal gate and cling to it. I haul myself up the last few inches before jumping down the other side, landing with a thump on the dirty only problem now was where was there to go? I couldn`t go back to the house in case Kate was still there. I couldn't go into the town either though in case I ran into John. The garage he worked at was right smack bang in the centre of the town. There was always the beach, I suppose. I hadn`t been there yet, but Sam told me it was really close to the house you just had to keep walking straight until you saw a signpost for the seafront. It shouldn`t be too busy, what with everyone in school or work and it was off season so there shouldn't be many tourists either. Maybe just the odd weirdo and their mutt.

I am feeling tired by the time I finally see the depressing grey-blue sea water stretching out in front of me. I clamber down some rocky dunes to get onto the beach itself and immediately regret it. It was much colder down here, where there were no huge slopes to protect you from the chilly wind as it battered against the cliffs. I was right though, there was no one else here. In the far distance, way, way away I see a large group of rocks. I could sit there and duck behind them should anyone come by and ask why I wasn`t in school. It was only a small little town, the kind of place where everyone knew everyone so I couldn't risk anyone who knew my dad seeing my and putting two and two together. John had already shown my picture to all of his friends and workmates. Maybe he was just happy to have me here and wanted to show his friends just who his boy was, more likely he wanted to know I could be recognised should I run away. My aching feet are grateful when I plonk my butt down on one of the larger rocks.

"You must be Dean Winchester." A tall figure emerges from the waves behind me, dripping with salt water and sand. He shakes his head like a dog would to dry off, his dark hair flicking everywhere. His feet and chest were bare, something that I wasn't so comfortable with and he was well muscled.

I jump up too quickly out of surprise and graze my leg on the sharp edge of the rock."Where did you just come from?!" I demand, picking up my school bag. I could hit him with it and run. I was pretty good in a fight, but something told me I wouldn`t want to face up to this guy. He was tall, only a little shorter than me and looked like he was in great shape. Obviously not a body builder, but he didn`t look like he would fight fair.

"The water obviously. I was warm and decided to go for a brief swim while I was waiting for you." He explains in a bored tone before reach down behind one of the other rocks and pulls out a green rucksack. From it he retrieves a plain white towel and begins to dry himself off.

"There was no one in the water. I would have seen you." I was certain.

He laughs once, not coldly, but not happily either. "How would you have been able to see? You had your back to the water. Not a very wise thing to do considering the tide is coming in fast."

I glance down at my feet and see that this stranger was in fact correct. The water has risen up far more that I thought it would have. When I first sat down the sea was nowhere near the rocks, but now it swirled and crashed around them as though trying to force them out of its way.

"I can give you a lift back home if you like." He offers. "My bike is just up at the top of those cliffs." He points at the wooden stairs I had made my way down earlier.

"Why would I go with you? I don`t even know who the hell you are. And I don`t want to go home."

The boy shrugs, as though he didn`t care. Which he didn`t obviously, why would he? He didn`t know me and I didn`t know him. And I wasn't being particularly pleasant to him.

"Then we can just go for a walk down the beach, the tide doesn't come in any further than this point and I`m curious. The whole town is talking about you. John Winchester`s prodigal son, home at last. Can`t wait to hear all about you." He smiles teasingly.

"I don`t know who you are or what you think you know, buddy, but you have got it all wrong!"

"Castiel."

I frown, anger disappearing. "What?"

"My name is Castiel, not Buddy."

I groan and roll my eyes. This guy was seriously pissing me off. "Whatever. We going on that walk or not?"


	9. Open Up

The strange guy, Castiel or whatever the heck his name is smiles warmly, if not a little overeagerly and nods. He leans forward and offers me his hand which I refuse with a very undignified and impolite snort.

"Well that was fairly rude." He complains, stuffing the now damp towel back into the rucksack and slinging it carelessly over his shoulders.

"Aren`t you going to put a shirt on or something?" I wasn`t used to being around half naked, possibly insane guys on the beach and I didn`t like it. I don`t care how attractive you think you are, it`s just plain weird being around virtual strangers shirtless. Couldn`t he see that I was uncomfortable? Heck, he probably could and was just trying to bug me.

Castiel frowns, tilting his head to one side as though he was confused by my question. "You want me to put my shirt back on." He sighs, as though reaching into his rucksack would be a terrible inconvenience to him.

"Well, yeah." I say, looking anywhere but at those big blue eyes and the confusion in them. "It`s just kind of weird being around someone you don`t know while they are half dressed." I explain.

"I see." His eyebrows furrow together making it quite clear he doesn't see at all.

"Look, nothing personal, buddy-"

"Castiel, I told you."

"Yeah, Castiel. Okay." This guy was seriously annoying. And after the shitty day I had I was seriously considering just storming off and leaving him there talking to the sand. "I don`t know you so I don`t feel too comfortable being around you when you are half naked. I`m sure you would feel the same, right?"

"Not really. It wouldn`t bother me." He tells me calmly, while staring right at me not even blinking once. "Besides, I am hardly half naked. All that is missing is my shirt and footwear." Castiel points downwards with one calloused hand. The nails were short and badly bitten. "I am still wearing my jeans and underwea-"

I raise one hand to stop him. "Look, too much information. Just put the damn shirt on."

He rolls his eyes put finally pulls out a crumpled black tee shirt from his bag and tugs it over his head, messing up his already sea tangled hair.

"Happy now?" he snaps as he raises one eyebrow before striding up to me, putting only a centimetre or so of air between us.

I gulp visibly and feel my cheeks burn. I wasn`t used to someone getting right in my face, I was always the one who made the first move with girls so this was pretty strange. I didn`t like it one little bit.

"Anyway, that walk." I hurriedly change the subject, turning my back on him and walk a few metres in the opposite direction to where he was standing with his hands hanging loosely by his sides.

We walk for well over an hour in a companionable silence, Castiel just the slightest bit in front, the sea breeze ruffling his quickly drying hair. We might not be chattering away, but it wasn`t quiet. Not with the seagulls squawking away cheerily (and irritatingly) and the rising tide steadily creeping up the golden beach. The sand was awkward to walk on and eventually I copy Castiel and take off my shoes, tying the dirty laces together and carry them that way, swinging them like a young child would. In the distance I can hear cars rushing along the main road, but that seems like a world away.

Castiel was the one who dared to start the conversation.

"Why don`t you like it here, Dean?"

Not the same question I had been asked by every single one of my teachers who had asked in over the top chirpy voices asking if I liked it here. It surprised me.

"What makes you think I don`t?" I answer with a slight sneer in my voice. "I love it. Love the views," I gesture towards the high sea cliffs and then out at the endless waves of blue-grey water, "Love the food and don`t even get me started on the people."

"I know that two out of three of those are truths." He retorted closing the gap between us again. "I know that you do in fact love the food and the views. It is the people you have a problem with. You father to be more exact."

My eyes narrow into thin, angry slits and I glare at him. "If you already know then why ask?" I seethed, angrily shoving him away with more difficulty than I thought it would take.

Castiel bows his head in a form of apology. "My apologies, Dean. I am only trying to help."

"Whatever." I shrug it off and continue walking alongside him.

He smiles reproachfully. "Maybe it would help if you had someone to talk to about it?" he offers hesitantly.

"No offence, but there is no way in hell I am unloading all my baggage onto some stranger."

"Ah, but it is because we don`t know each other well that you should tell me. After all, I don't know you therefore I am unable to pass judgment."

I will admit that it did make sense. Kind of, but I was still unwilling to trust someone, to let someone in past my steel barriers. Part of me desperately wanted to, but the more dominant side of me refused it. It was this part that had told me to run earlier today, the part that was telling me to do that now. Almost as though he could tell exactly what I was thinking, Castiel places a firm hand on my shoulder, forcing me to stay where I was.

"You cannot keep running forever." He states plainly, without any smugness, only concern and understanding. "I am well aware of how tempting it can be, but you only end up dragging your trouble behind you."

I hadn`t realised how late it had gotten until Castiel pointed out that the sun was beginning to set, painting the once blue sky a beautiful rainbow of red, golds and oranges. I didn`t want to go back to John and Kate`s house, but I knew I had very little choice. Not unless I wanted to camp out unprepared on the beach. I would be all for it normally, but something in the other boy`s bright eyes told me that he wasn`t going to let me do that.

"If you walk back with me to where I left my bike I will gladly give you a lift back to your dad`s house." He makes the same offer he had earlier when the sun was still high in the sky. How many hours ago had that been? I could say no, I should say no. I didn't `t want friends, I didn`t need friends. Even back at home I didn`t have friends. Not real ones anyway. Not the kind you could stay up all night talking your problems out with or walking all day along a beach with. I banish the image of me and Castiel and try and try to replace it with someone from back home. Lisa or Lucifer. Neither work.

"Ok." I finally agree and his whole face lights up as though the thought of walking back alone upset him gravely.

"I`m surprised your family aren`t out here looking for you or phoning you."

"They aren`t my family." I bite his head off without meaning to and immediately feel terrible. It wasn`t Castiel`s fault everything was so messed up. Despite my earlier words I find myself opening up just a little.

"John Winchester is not my dad." I tell him and he looks puzzled but nods anyway. "We share DNA, but that is it. He donated a few of his swimmers and a few months later I popped out onto the scene. Turns out he couldn`t take it and cheats on my mum and knocks up this tart, Kate." I say her name as though it were a curse. If it wasn`t for her then my mum and him would still be together. He wouldn't have ran off and abandoned me like a piece of trash when I was only twelve years old. Or maybe I had done something to drive him away. Maybe he was just sick of me.

The other boy shuffles his bare feet awkwardly on the cool sand underfoot. "It isn`t her fault, Dean."

I throw daggers at him. How dare he? What the fucking hell did he know about anything? "How dare-"

"It isn`t your fault either." He speaks softly, barely whispering.

"Yeah, well," I grumble, feeling mighty stupid for getting so angry at him. "Anyway, John came back and stayed until I was twelve, then one day just up and leaves to live with her and the kids Sam and Ad-"

Why hadn`t it dawned on me before? When I got mad at him days ago about Sam being thirteen I had realised that he must have been cheating on mum since I was three. Why had I never thought about Adam, the younger of the two sprogs? Probably because the kid always hid behind Sam like he was his guardian or something. Adam was seven. Dad had left when I was twelve. I was sixteen now. I was terrible at math but even I knew that sixteen minus twelve was only four.

"That motherfucking, lying piece of shit!" I scream, the anger that had started to calm down over the past few hours spent with the other boy boiling over again. Castiel just stands their quietly, letting me get it all out of my system.

John had said he had only seem Kate that one time when they did the dirty. If that was true, then how did Adam happen? The tooth fairy? Santa Clause? The stork?

"There is no way in hell I am going back there." I decide, crossing my shaking arms across my chest to try and hide it. Of fucking course Castiel just has to notice and places a comforting arm around my shoulder. Oddly enough I am sorely tempted to lean into it and curl my trembling body around him and let him hold onto me as I cry. I couldn't remember the last time I had a good cry. The kind where you just give in and let it all come out, the tears, the hate the anger. Everything.

I don`t of course.

"You have to go back, Dean. I told you, you just drag all of your troubles with you."

"Yeah, well I sure got plenty of them." I sniff and just for a second, scratch that half a second lean into his comforting touch.

He convinces me to go back of course. The good hearted asshole. The rest of the walk back is uncomfortable, but I still don`t want to say goodbye to him. Maybe because he had listened and not gotten mad at me or judged me for anything I said. Then again, I had barely began to scratch the surface of what was wrong, so maybe he still would end up running away screaming at some point. Who knows? For now at least, it was…nice to finally have someone to talk to.

"My bike is just over there."

He points and my eyes widen. He couldn`t possibly mean that glossy black, dangerous looking piece of machinery over there, could he?

He did.

"Come on, Dean." He says happily, smiling adoringly at the shiny death-trap the same way I used to look at the impala. He swings a strong leg over and balances, looking over his shoulder as he waits me to get behind him. I gulp, and slowly walk over and pause.

"What? You need a hand up or something, Princess?" he jokes and I slap his left arm playfully, not really wanting to piss him off right now because my life would soon be in his hands.

I clamber up onto it ungracefully, trying to stop feeling so scared. I shyly put my arms on his shoulders, just barely hanging on. Impatient, Castiel reaches round and pulls him closer, securing my arms around his lithe frame.

"No helmet?" I gulp, looking down at the ground.

He just laughs and kick starts the bike and we are suddenly speeding down the road. I say speeding, but we can`t have been going very fast, but it certainly felt it to me. Castiel drove like a natural, the bike seemed to do exactly want he wanted it to do with the slightest encouraging movement. Hunched over it, hands encased in leather gloves I hadn`t seen him put on, bending naturally into every turn, he seemed to belong on it.

Me…not so much. I was scared and I knew he knew it judging by the smug smirk he wore and the teasing look in his blue eyes. I clung to him desperately, eyes firmly kept shut until I felt the horrendous bike still under me.

"You can let go now, fraidy-cat." He chuckles. "Your dad`s house is just down there, past that tree." He points and I see the familiar little house, with its strange red bricks and its beautiful flowerbeds.

"Thanks."

"Don`t mention it." The dark haired boy says and I know he wasn`t just saying that to be polite. He didn`t want me to tell anyone about meeting him.

"I won't." I promise and awkwardly wave goodbye, wondering if I should mention wanting to see him again. I am about to, but chicken out.

"Yes, Dean. I will see you again soon." He reads my mind again.

And without so much as a friendly goodbye he is gone, taillights disappearing into the dark evening.

John was going to be furious, but I didn`t care.


	10. Shout

"Oh, Dean!" A trembling arm snakes its way around me as soon as the front door clicks shut. Kate is clinging to me tightly, crushing my lungs and depriving them of oh, ya know, oxygen. It wasn`t important. Her floral perfume that was so similar to my mother`s favourite brand fills my nose and I start coughing.

"Get off of me!" I shove her away disgustedly, readjusting the black leather jacket I hadn`t taken off all day.

"Oh, thank goodness you`re home safe!" she gushes and it looks like she is going to pull me in for another hug/chokehold. She soon stops dead in her tracks when she is subjected to the full force of my death glare.

"I`m fine." I snort, shrugging off the coat and drape it over my black messenger bag. I would take both upstairs in a minute.

"I was so worried about you. John was too." I notice that she hasn`t called him my dad, which I was grateful for. Maybe she was learning.

"John? John Asshole Winchester?! Worried? About me?" I get right up in her face, green eyes blazing with pure hatred. She gulps and I feel a brief flash of pride. I`d scared her. Good.

"Well, of course he was. When he got the phone call from the school saying you had walked out in the middle of sociology and not come back he was terrified."

Yeah fucking right.

"He was so scared something might happen to you." She lies, but to her, I can clearly see it wasn`t a lie. She honest to God believed that he cared about me. More fool her then. Kate might believe his concerned doting father routine, but I didn`t. In her mind he was trying to make up for past mistakes, make up for lost time. Well I knew better.

"Yeah. Terrified I might show up back here on his doorstep."

"No. That isn't it at all, Dean. He was so worried he left work straight away to go out and search for you."

"Well he didn`t do a very good job, did he?" I mock.

I knew I shouldn`t be taking my anger out on her, but I just couldn`t hold it in. Mom would be terribly disappointed in me, not that I gave damn. That seemed to be her default mode now. Disappointed in Dean or mad at Dean. Castiel would be disappointed in me too and that thought bothered me more than it should have.

"Sam and Adam were concerned too. They adore you so much. When they got out of school Sam insisted on gathering up a group of his friends and went out looking for you as well. Adam wouldn`t stop screaming and crying until Sam agreed to take him too."

Well that was kind of sweet, I suppose. I think of Sam with his floppy brown hair and big inquisitive eyes. Then of Adam with his gap tooth grin and shy smile as he pokes his head out from behind his older brother`s legs. It wasn`t their fault. They hadn`t asked for this, for any of this. It`s not like they asked to be born. They didn`t make my dad cheat on my mom. Then I remember what had angered me on the beach and the anger and all of the hatred flares up again.

"I thought you only saw each other that one time?" The question burns my throat. Kate just looks confused.

"John said you met one time at a bar and went off and slept together and never saw each other again until years and years later when he ran off. Well then how did Adam appear?"

She looks pale and sick, frozen in place, cell phone clutched tightly in her hand. She was probably alerting John that I had finally stopped being stupid and figured it out.

"We met a few times after that." She admits in a timid whisper. "But I didn`t force him to come with me. I didn`t even know he was married until he showed up and told me he was leaving her. I told John I was leaving America to come back home because I missed my family. I didn`t force him to leave but he said he wanted to be with us." She says, all teary eyed. Of course he wanted to be with you. Why the hell would he have wanted to stay with me?

I wanted to be pissed at her, to punch her, but I knew that she was telling the truth. Or what she though was the truth. She met a man in a bar one night and got pregnant. They probably lost contact for a bit while she raised the little snot nosed sprog out of diapers. Then out of the blue he calls her. Probably after a row with his wife who she knew nothing about. Then they start meeting secretly and a while after that another bouncing baby brat appears on the scene. Things go well for a little while longer and then she decides to move back home and he leaves with her, carelessly abandoning his other family. His real family. Me.

The front door bursts open and crashes against the wall with a loud thud. Sam and Adam come tearing in. John slams the door shut behind him without bothering to lock it.

"Well, explain yourself." He growls while throwing his work boots roughly into the shoe cupboard under the stairs. "Why did you run out of school? Why didn`t you come home and why the hell didn`t you answer your God damn phone, Dean?!" he rages, spit flying everywhere oh so pleasantly.

Before, back when this stranger was still my hero, I always burst out crying whenever he raised his voice at me. Now I felt oddly proud. At least he still remembered I existed.

"John, maybe we should all just calm down and let Dean explain. Boys, go upstairs. Sam, run Adam`s bath and then have your shower and go to bed. It`s late."

Sam and Adam linger uncertainly in the doorway.

"Now boys, do as your mother says." John says tiredly, rubbing his temple.

Sam speaks up in a shaky voice, "We want to see Dean and make sure he is ok. Can we see him, just for a minute?"

John grudgingly lowers his head and nods stiffly just the once. They both race over and before I can do anything to push them off or scare them both away, their arms are wrapped tightly around me. It wasn`t as bad as you might imagine, it was actually kind of…pleasant. The two younger boys were nice and warm at least and it was nice to feel wanted for once.

"We are so happy you`re back safe, Dean." Adam snuggles closer and I tense up.

"Yeah, it would be weird without you here now, we`re family."

"Sam, we are not family." I had no family, not anymore. All they did was bring you down, ruin you.

"Yes we are." The thirteen year old insists before letting go and taking hold of Adam`s small hand. "Come on Adam lets go get your bath run and get you ready to go to bed."

The child pouts, "But I`m not sleepy." He yawns and Sam breaks out into a big smile. They both scurry off a few seconds later looking genuinely happy that I had returned safe.

_Weird. _

John looks a lot calmer now sitting down in his favourite armchair, his legs resting on the coffee table on top of a pile of home décor magazines. Kate was hovering next to him anxiously, chewing on her pink lower lip.

"Why don`t you go to bed now? You must be getting tired too." Kate suggests and I am too exhausted to fight for once. "You should probably call your mum first though, she was panicking like crazy on the phone earlier." The image of Kate having a phone conversation with the woman who has hated her guts for so long makes me smile.

"We will talk about this in the morning Dean." John warns.

"And by talk you mean yell? Can`t wait." I roll my eyes. "But you will never get me to go back to that dump."

His eyes narrow. "Well we have to educate you. It is the law, like it or not."

"I hate it here!" I scream and pick up one of the beautiful hand sewn cushions from the couch and punch it repeatedly before hurling it across the room at him. He catches it calmly, which only serves to make me even more furious. "And I hate you! I will never, ever forgive you for what you have done. You are not my father! You have no right to try and tell me what to do. You ran out on me and it destroyed my life! You have no right to act like this, like you give a damn. You are nothing to me." I spit, satisfied with the silence that follows my outburst.

His eyes widen and I see a little spark of hurt in his eyes. It felt good. Maybe, deep down running off like that wasn`t just about getting away, maybe it was about hurting him. Causing him pain exactly like he had caused me.

I storm out of the room and race up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I felt sick, my eyes were stinging with salty tears I was determined would not fall and my chest felt like it was likely to burst open at any second. I push past Sam in the landing and make a mad dash into the bathroom and collapse over the toilet. I heave but nothing comes out apart from bile.

I was sick of it all. I wanted to go home. This crappy little seaside town in some strange country was not my home and they were not my family. Kansas used to be my home, but that was back when I still had a family there to love and protect me. Families were supposed to keep you safe and love you unconditionally. So where was mine? I just wanted to belong somewhere, anywhere, but wherever I went, wherever I was sent off to when mom had finally had enough was never home. I never belonged anywhere. I was just a misdirected parcel that nobody wanted and kept trying to return to sender.

I don`t sleep well at all that night. The wind battered against the windows and rattled the chains on the ancient old swing set outside. I still felt sick, but the anger had just drained away leaving an empty feeling in my chest. I didn`t want to care about any of this. Maybe, if I could just distance myself from my emotions it would hurt less. I think I would rather feel nothing at least then I wouldn`t have to feel like this.

Morning comes far too soon. The week British sun peaks out from behind a cloud every so often, bathing the neatly kept garden in a golden light. I ignore it and roll back over, pulling the floral duvet right up over my head. I am roughly shaken and kick out of whoever it was, feeling very satisfied when I manage to make contact with their stomach. The feeling soon evaporates when I see a gangly kid with messy hair.

"Sam! I thought you were someone else. I`m really sorry." I truly was and I think he knows this because he just smiles at me like he forgives me even though I have no right to it.

"It`s okay, I was just told to wake you up when I was ready to go to school."

"I told him last night I am not going back there."

Sam shrugs and tells me that he doesn`t know what to do. I eventually follow the kid downstairs, dressed only in my boxers and the shirt I had been wearing yesterday to make it clear I had no intention of getting dressed and going anywhere. Kate was dressed in a nurse`s uniform, neat black trousers, a deep blue shirt with a large pocket over the left breast with a black pen in it and sensible flat shoes. Guess she was working the early shift at the Doctor`s today. She also did the occasional nightshift at the hospital in Norwich.

"Sam, Adam hurry up and I will drop you off before work." She tells them and flashes a brief smile at me as she leaves to go and wait in the car.

John is perched on his favourite chair. Looks like he wasn`t working today, or maybe he had the morning off and was expected in later. Who knows? Must be a perk of co-owning your own business, choosing your own hours.

"Now Dean, we have both had time to cool off and think about what happened and what needs to be done."

I stare blankly ahead, pretending to ignore him. The painting on the wall of the beach was nice. Certainly interesting. I liked the use of colour and the seagulls looked pretty realistic.

"The school has refused to take you back after your little runaway yesterday. While Kate and I try and persuade them to come around and look for other schools in the area just in case they don`t come around, we are at a bit off a loss."

"I ain`t going to some poncy boarding school."

Kate rushes back in, "Sorry, forgot my keys. Have you told him about the plan yet? A co-worker of mine does it, she says it is much easier than you think and not even very expensive."

I look up at her, clearly confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh! He hasn`t told you yet." She said while hunting for her car keys. "We could home school you."


	11. Talk

"Home school?" I echo, wondering just what the hell this crazy old guy was thinking. I mean, home schooling? Like what poncy, snobbish, rich parents forced their little brats into? No thanks.

Kate rushes past me, accidently knocking into me in her haste to find the missing keys to her Ford Fiesta. John was forbidden to drive it, I had learnt that fairly early on. He had a love of speed and a bad habit of not tidying up after himself if it was someone else`s car or else just a crappy, sorry excuse for a car. Heaven forbid someone dared to forget about their empty soda bottle in his beloved Impala though. That poor sap needed all the luck he got. The blonde haired woman shoots me a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off into the kitchen to continue the hunt. A few minutes later I hear the front door close and the car start up and she was gone and I was left alone with him.

"Yes, Dean. Home education is something we started looking into last night as a part time solution." He explains, seeing my horrified face. "Not for a very long time, hopefully. Just until we can convince the school to take you back, or if worst comes to the worst, we can get you another place at a different school."

Yippee.

The possibility of yet another new school made me feel positively sick. Not that I was eager to ever step foot in that shithole of a school ever again, but at least it was close to the beach if I ever needed to make a quick escape. Sure, school sucked, but did that mean I wanted to be cadged up inside the house for five days a week, hidden behind a ginormous text book? No fricken way.

"What with it being the summer holidays coming up in three weeks it might prove difficult to get a meeting with anyone at the school or at any other school until they reopen. This will only be a temporary fix to a complicated situation, Dean." Johnny Rain Cloud tries and fails to reassure me with a rare (and obviously forced) smile. His pale, cracked lips were stretched out thinly and I felt the rage well up inside of me again. How dare he smile at me like that? The way he used to, as though nothing had changed. It was disgusting.

"You disgust me."

He stays silent and turns away. I hope it hurt. I hope he can sense just how much I hate him.

"Maybe it`s time you and me had a little chat." He suggests, fluffing one of the beautiful handmade cushions and sits down on the couch instead of his armchair. Boy, did I feel honoured. "Have a seat."

"I`ll stand." I throw him a dirty look and fold my arms across my chest.

He sighs, but nods. "Why did you do it, Dean?"

I raise one eyebrow. "Why did I do what?" I question in a mocking tone. "Run away from school? It`s not like I properly ran away, I did come back." I am fairly positive that I wouldn't have, had it not been for Castiel, but of course, I don`t tell him this. I decide to be extra spiteful, to turn the knife just that little bit more. The same way he had when he ran off and replaced me with Sam and Adam.

"Yeah, I came back." I take a deep breath. "Unlike you."

He visibly flinches, and I feel grimly satisfied. Whether it was from the icy words or the bitter, cruel tone, I don`t know. Or care. It pained him, and that was all that mattered to me.

"Dean. You have no right to say those kinds of things to me! Your mother and I divorced, it was not the end of the world. Lots of couples do it. Stop acting like you are the only one it was difficult for."

I can`t help it. I lean back, throw back my head and let it out. A loud laugh that lacked any kind of joy, only resentment. I sounded half mad and maybe I was.

"I told you this before, Asshat! You have no fucking right to tell me what to do, you are nothing to me. Nothing. Certainly not my father. You fucking walked out, abandoning your wife and twelve year old son. You didn`t give two shits about either of us, especially not me, and you still don`t."

Unlike him, I do not yell, not this time. I speak calmly and clearly, fury and venom colouring each and every syllable of my words.

"You single handedly tore apart my life and it broke me. So I don`t give a flying fuck if you have a problem with how I am acting, because you know what?" I spit directly in his face, not even frightened of how he might react.

I think for a second that he might hit me, but decide that I don`t care. I would fight back. Lucifer had taught me a trick or two about fighting dirty. I almost hope he does throw the first punch, because then nobody could blame me for retaliating. In the end, he doesn`t.

"You know what?" I push him for an answer to the venomous question, knowing fine well I wasn`t about to get one. "You did this to me." I grin, green eyes dark and blazing with anger.

"Get over it, you pathetic little boy!" He roars, rising from the sofa in one fast movement. "People split up, people make mistakes, Dean. Things never worked with your mother, never. We practically hated each other`s guts most of the time, but only pretended to have a happy marriage because of you."

"Oh that`s fucking, lovely. Real charming." I sneer. "Blame the kid. Of course. Why didn`t I think of it sooner? Of course it was all my fault."

He carries on raging at me as though I hadn`t even opened my mouth. "I admit that what I did was wrong, but people are allowed to make mistakes, Dean. And I love Kate, Sam and Adam."

I don`t miss that fact that I was not included on that list.

"I am happy, we are happy. Why can`t you just accept that? Or must everything always be all about you and what you want? Must you always be so selfish?!"

Careful old man, those are fighting words.

"Kate thinks that we should talk it all out, so come on, Dean. Let`s talk it out."

I scoff, "Fat chance. You wouldn't even bother to listen to me anyway. You never did." I can still remember that day vividly. I was screaming and crying and pleading for him to come back, and of course, he never did. "I begged for you to come back, I screamed and I sobbed and I even fucking prayed. So why didn`t you fucking listen?!"

My eyes sting and I angrily wipe at them with a rough hand. He was not going to make me cry. Not again. My entire body felt week, like if I could just give in and lie down I would be able to sleep for a whole week, maybe even two.

His expression softens ever so slightly. "I`m sorry, Son, but I am listening now."

I sigh and shake my head, too weakened from yet another shouting match to really have a proper dig at him for calling me that. All I say about it is, "I am not your son." and leave it at that.

"Come on, Dean." He urges. "You wanted me to listen to you and now I am. Now, what do you want to tell me?"

Four years I had spent thinking and dreaming of all of the things I would say to him should I ever see him again, most nasty, but some were just hurt and confused and wanting to know why. Why he did it? How could he do it? Now he was here and wanting to listen and my mind was a blank.

"I don`t know." I shrug.

"Okay then. I`ll start." He says softly, almost gently and I am reminded of hot summer days where he would play out in the garden with me for hours, filling up a giant paddling pool on the hottest days, sometimes even letting me play with the hose and not even complaining that I was wasting so much water. "The grass could use a drink." He would always say with a smile. I remember whenever I had a nightmare or was scared of the thing hiding in my closet or under my bed, waiting to pounce, he would come in with a glass of warm milk and a bedtime story to help me settle down again. Where had that man gone? He was my hero once.

"You must know that this isn`t a healthy, appropriate way to behave, Dean. Mary was frantic on the phone to Kate last night, and I bet you still haven`t called her, have you?"

I shake my head silently and he sighs.

"After this conversation you will use the house phone and call her. Am I understood?"

I just nod.

"I just don`t understand. Most kids adjust fine to their parents splitting up, but not you. Why do you do these sorts of things, Dean? Mary has told me all about the drinking, the sneaking out, the bunking off, the girls, and not to mention that girlfriend`s pregnancy scare a few months back. Why, Dean? You could have a bright future ahead of you, why must you insist on ruining it?"

That was when I saw red and the new found calmness ebbs away. I was no longer tired, I was ready for war.

"My life was ruined the day you walked out that front door! You took my happiness, my childhood and my future with you."

I watch smugly as his entire face creases up with guilt.

"I am sorry you feel that way, truly, but you cannot go on acting like this." He says, getting up and walking out into the hallway to retrieve his work boots. "I am going into town with Kate tomorrow to pick up some supplies and then you will start this home schooling thing. You will work hard and complete all the work we set for you." He tells me sternly, his face still creased up, dark circles and heavy bags under his eyes.

"And it I don`t?"

He ignores me, he has gotten pretty damn good at it over the years. "You will continue to work hard until we can get the school to reconsider or find you another one. If this turns out to be a long term solution, then we will have to have a talk with your mother and see what she thinks will be best."

I stare blankly at him. "I don`t see why I have to go to school anyway. I`m sixteen." I grumble.

"The law changed a few years back. Kids must stay in school now until they are eighteen."

My eyes widen in horror. "I am not staying here that long! There is no way in hell I am staying here for another two months, let alone two years."

"We will just have to see what works out, wont we?"

"Oh, just do one, you old bastard."

"I want you to stay in the house while Kate and I are at work today. She will be home at around four with the boys and I won`t be back until six. Try not to destroy the house while we are not here." He warns.

The front door slams shut soon afterwards. I peer out from behind the pristine net curtains, being careful not to be seen and wait for him to drive away. I wait tensely for ten minutes to make sure he doesn`t come back before grabbing my black messenger bag. I empty out my school things like my notebook, pens and pencils and replace them with a mix of cheese, ham and sausage sandwiches. They weren`t neat, but they would be edible. Two large bottles of water also find their way into the bag, along with my real leather wallet, phone (which was turned off) and my IPod. Screw calling mom, she didn`t care either. She sent me away, to _him_.

I rush up the stairs and pull open the nearest draw in the search for clean clothes. I find another pair of torn at the knee jeans, an almost new shirt I had paid a ridiculous amount of cash for at a recent concert with Lucifer and clean boxers. I take them into the bathroom with me, showering in record time. Once ready, I run back down, grab my bag and leave. I exit through the back garden, walking down the side of the house and through the back gate, making sure to lock it behind me. Nobody would have to know I had ever left, so long as I was back for four.

I had no idea if the strange boy, Castiel would be at the beach again today, but a large part of me hoped that he was. He was really the only person here I could talk to, or even wanted to talk to. Besides, I had very strict orders not to leave the house, so why on Earth would I stay inside on such a beautiful, sunny day?


	12. Let it go

**Hello there! I am so sorry this has taken me so long to get up. My girlfriend has hurt her foot and has barely been able to leave her house so I have been spending most of my time with her keeping her company/from going mad. It is nearly seven in the morning here and I haven`t slept yet because hey! Insomnia rocks! So I apologise for stupid errors I will try and fix them tomorrow when I get a chance to read over it again. Hope you are all doing well, thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and I hope you all have a wonderful day. **

I keep my head down as I stroll down the path, setting a leisurely pace and turn away from the road whenever a car drove past me to avoid being seen. Thankfully, only a handful of cars speed by, all ignoring the legal limit. I spot one middle aged businessman type with a receding hairline yelling down the phone at some poor bastard and feel guilty for not calling mom yet. The guilt soon washes away with the sand as soon as the grey blue water comes into sight. I run over the dunes, the sharp grass and weeds pricking the skin on my lower leg as I brush past them and I curse my stupid ripped jeans. The stairs that lead the way down to the beach are old, but stronger than they look as I race down them towards the sand littered with stones and seaweed.

A lone dark figure in the distance catches my eye. Leaning casually over the rocks where we had first met was a tall young man, maybe a little older than me with windswept hair and bright blue eyes. I couldn`t see clearly from way over here, but I just knew it was him. The strange boy I had met on the beach. Castiel. He raises his head and glances up the unstable looking stairway and grins and waves madly, even though he couldn`t possibly have a good enough view to be able to tell it was me. Then again, if I could recognise him from this distance, maybe he recognised my leather jacket or something. His mouth opens and he must have shouted up to me, but his words are carried off out to sea on the wind.

"What took you so long?" Castiel questions, a huge welcoming smile forming on his chapped lips. "I`ve been waiting here for hours." He complains, but the smile on his face never fades or falters so I know he was only teasing me.

Today his dark hair was even messier, proving that he had been out here waiting for some time. A fleecey tartan blanket was wrapped securely around his shoulders to keep the wind off. Even though it would soon be the summer break, it wasn`t very warm, even though the sun was shining brightly in an almost cloudless sky. Guess England wasn`t known for its heatwaves. Who knew? The thought of someone being so eager to see me that they would stand out and wait on a deserted beach all morning for me makes me feel all warm inside. It was certainly not something Lucifer or Lisa would do for me. Not even if all of Hell froze over and the real Devil showed up to shake hands.

"What the hell took so long? Castiel repeats.

"John was being a douche as per." I begin to explain, but stop myself from saying anymore. I didn`t want this guy`s pity, then again Castiel didn`t seem like the kind of person who would offer you any even if you did.

"Oh." he frowns, dark eyebrows creasing together, "how?"

I shrug, and gently shove him over so I can perch next to him on the same rock. We were a little closer than I usually was comfortable with, and had it been with Lucifer or Crowley, they would probably have tried to make some big gay joke out of it.

"Yelling, shouting, screaming. The whole nine yards. He told me I was pathetic and basically said that I just needed to get a grip." I rant, unable to control my anger yet again. Now that I had started it was hard to stop, to contain it, to make the words come back.

Castiel just sits there silently listening the entire time, his expression ranging from confusion, to sadness to anger. I pause, clearly embarrassed and he smiles shyly and encourages me to go on. "You need to be able to get all of this off of your chest, Dean. Then and only then will you be capable of moving past all that has happened to you. It seems to me that while you both are angry at each other, you will continue to lash out, hurting each other and making the situation even worse." It was his turn to look embarrassed now. Cheeks flushed pink he chuckles awkwardly, "Well, I mean, I am no therapist, so feel free to just ignore that and please continue if you like. It might help to be able to vent to someone outside of the situation, a neutral party if you like."

I nod once appreciatively, not wanting to admit to him that he might possibly be bang on the money. "And then after a huge fight he threatened me with home education and I lost it and we yelled at each other again and he told me to stay in the house and that`s when I came here." To find you. For obvious reasons I leave that last part unsaid.

He just sits there, shocked. "I am sorry, Dean." he says finally, his deep voice grave. I could tell he meant it. It was laughable really. Here I was spilling my guts, my entire pathetic sob story to some guy I had only known for like a day. What was this, some crappy teen rom-com? The kind of shit chicks would stay in and bawl/giggle over on a Friday night? A sappy Disney flick? No way, nuh-uh. Not my life. That wasn`t me. If this _was_ one of those kinds of romantic things, my fairy godmother would come and give me some glass slippers and a pumpkin coach. Well, sorry, but this Cinderella just isn`t interested. Sorry to disappoint. Buh-bye now.

"Not your fault, Cas." I tell him and it was true. It wasn`t his, or Sam or Adam`s fault if I was being honest. It was Kate`s for stealing John away and his for running out like a coward on his young family. Maybe I should try and cut the two kids some slack. I don`t have a clue what either of them see in me, but they keep hanging around and bringing me food and they did seem genuinely worried about me last night after my not so great escape.

"Cas?" he tilts his head to the slide, reminding me of something a loyal puppy might do.

I shrug, "Yeah. It`s your new nickname. Don`t ask where it came from, I honest to Gods don`t have a Scooby Doo."

He frowns again and tilts his head further to the right. Hadn`t anyone ever told him he could hurt his neck doing that. Jesus Christ, what an idiot. "I am afraid I don`t understand. "Cas states blankly, staring right ahead at the choppy waves. The sound when the crashed against the other rocks was almost deafening from our makeshift seating area.

"It`s from a children`s cartoon, Cas." I explain patiently, wondering what kind of shitty, torturous childhood this kid must have had to not know about the awesomeness of Scooby Doo. "It was about a group of meddling kids that had a talking dog called Scooby Doo. Velma, Daphne, Fred and this stoned hippy, Shaggy." I am unable to bite back a huge smile as my new friend`s face. "They drove around and solved supernatural type mysterious, normally revealing that the monsters were only normal humans after all. It means I haven't got a clue, because, you know, they hunted for clues."

"Oh. I think I would like to watch that someday." his pink lips curl upwards and it makes me feel proud to have been the one responsible for that. "For a child`s cartoon, it sounds very deep. The real monsters are too often human."

Okay then. "I never thought of it like that."

"I would very much like to watch that sometime." he repeats and I take the hint. Or what I thought was a hint. My grin widens to match his, "Sure. You should come over someday and we can definitely do that. Sam was watching some DVDs of it the other day. I didn`t sit and watch it with him or anything, I had just went downstairs to get a drink but I saw it was on and I guess it just reminded me of how much I loved it as a kid." If I had been explaining my childish love to anyone but Cas, I would have been beetroot red with shame right about now, but he was smiling and seemed just as eager to watch it as I was.

"I would very much like to do that, Dean, but I am afraid I can`t."

My face falls, "Why not?"

"It is complicated, but I am not really the best choice for a dinner guest and besides, I don`t think it would be wise for me to show up while things are still so unsettled at the house between you all. I would hate to get in the way."

"Dude," I begin, determined to get him to come over. "I am going out of my mind with boredom, you gotta keep me company or I might actually just go insane."

"I am more than happy to meet up with you here, or grab a coffee sometime." The older boy offers, but it sounded strained and I immediately call him out on it.

"Look, Cas, if you don`t want to me my friend that`s fine, but don`t just string me along and fake being nice and shit." I couldn`t deal with that. Being left alone again, unwanted and disposed of.

His eyes turn sincere, his bright blue meeting my own green. I force myself to look away quick sharp. Not quick enough, however, to miss the brief flash of hurt this causes him. When I had been banished here I had promised myself that I wasn`t going to get involved to anyone or anything. I was going to be cold and cruel and angry and scare off anyone in a three mile radius. I wasn`t here to make friends, to get attached. I needed to remember that.

"I would never do that to anyone, Dean." He promises, eyes fixed directly on me and I desperately want to believe him, but I just don`t know if I am ready to take that risk, if I am even strong enough.

"Here." I rummage about in my bag for a second before pulling out the food I had packed. He gladly take one of the water bottles ad takes a long swig. "Sandwiches." I hand him one of each kind, stating the obvious. "Eat up."

We eat quietly just calmly watching the grey-blue waves pound away endlessly at the cold yellow sand, watch as the salty air picks up and deposits small scraps of litter before dumping them back on the ground again. Not a single soul was in sight, unless you counted the big seagulls that hopped about down by the water pecking at the damp seaweed hoping to find some food. It wasn`t long before they notice us, or more specifically our packed lunch.

"I always wanted to be a bird." Cas blurted out before he could stop himself. "I wanted to be able to fly, sometimes I even half thought I could." He finishes off by tearing apart his cheese sandwich and throwing to the scavenging birds, causing a small panic as they fight amongst themselves.

I chuckle, "Bet that turned out really well for you."

He too, laughs, "I jumped off of the top of our garden shed and broke my wrist. My older brother Gabriel found me and somehow managed to persuade me to let him pick out the colour of my cast because he was the one who alerted mum and dad to my injury."

I can actually see it now, an adorable baby Cas with even scruffier hair and muddy trainers clambering up on top of a rotten blue shed. His naïve childhood innocence convincing him that he could actually do it.

"What colour did you end up getting?" I ask, curious.

"Bright pink." He sighs, rolling his eyes at his own silly mistake. "I should never have trusted Gabriel. He was always pulling stupid pranks on me, just because I was the youngest."

"Was?"

Another sigh, a sad, drawn out sound that actually hurt a little to hear coming from Cas. "We don`t see each other anymore. He is fine as far as I know, we just lost contact."

"Shame." I do my best to sympathise, but seeing as I wasn`t exactly Mr Happy Families, it probably didn`t come off to sympathetic, probably more snarky. "But in my experience, family does nothing but tear you down, cause you pain. I wish I never had to see mine again."

Cas looks horrified, but almost as though he understands as well. "You have been hurt so much and by the people who should have made it their duty to protect you from harm. You were let down and betrayed and you have every right to be angry, Dean. John made his choices and you have had to deal with them for all these time. It can`t have been easy."

A hesitant arm snakes itself around my shoulder and I tense up, but it doesn`t retract. "Just-just leave it, Cas. The past is the past. I can`t change it no matter how much I want to."

"No," he agrees earnestly, "You cannot. What you can do is make a choice."

My ears prick up and I turn to face him, sausage sandwich forgotten on my lap. What choices did I have? I had no say in anything. I was forced to come here, forced to see him again, forced along to try and play happy fucking families and guess what? I wasn`t happy. I couldn`t even go back home, because mum didn`t want me and if I was being complete honest, neither did my so called friends. I could hardly just move out of John`s oh so beautiful house. I was completely out of options, out of chances. I had been given more than enough warnings, and I had blown every single one.

"You have the choice, Dean. You can chose to continue down this rocky road you are on, gradually becoming even lonelier and watching as all of the broken promises and regrets pile up." He pauses, to gauge my reaction. I wanted to hit him, and had it been someone else I know they wouldn`t have been going home with their damned kneecaps, but this was different. This was Cas, the only person I could really talk to. I could at least here the guy out, he was pretty wise.

"You could choose to just let it go. All of the anger, the hate, the self-loathing and the pain. Just take a deep breath, hold it and let it out."

It wasn`t half tempting, I`ll admit, but I had no idea how to go about letting it all go. For three whole years my entire world was focused around John`s betrayal, centred around my hatred for the man I was cursed to call my father. How could I just let go of that?

"I don`t know how, I just don`t know how." I admit in a soft voice, my voice cracking as though I was about to cry.

The arm around my shoulders tightens and instead of angrily pushing it away like I had done with Kate, I find myself leaning into it. It was warm, and comforting. No, Cas was warm and comforting. He shifts back slightly so that I can huddle up closer, wrapping the fleece blanket around me loosely. He must have been cold now, but if he was, he doesn`t show it. For the first time in three long, emotionally draining years, I do the unthinkable. I cry. I sob. I bawl like a new born baby. The tears come quickly, desperate to finally be given the chance to be released.

"I`m here, I`ve got you. I can`t promise that everything will be alright, I can`t promise that I will always be able to protect you from the hurt, Dean, but I am here and I am your friend and I care terribly."

He rubs soothing circles on my back like mom had when I was a kid. I am happy he doesn`t tell me things will be okay, or make silly little promises he won`t be able to keep. I had had it up to here with empty promises, my own miserable ones included.

"I don`t know how to let go, Cas. It hurts to damn much. If I let go of the hatred that has filled me up for so long, who will I be? Will I even be me anymore?" I panic. "I can`t even remember what it was like to be that wide eyed little kid anymore, I can`t go back to being him. I just can`t." I plead with him with my tear filled eyes, which were still overflowing and staining my face with salty fluid. "Who will I be without all of the anger and hatred?"

He pushes me away and it feels like a knife in the chest.

"You will be Dean. Not Dean Winchester or Dean Campbell. Dean. You will be strong and good and you will be a survivor." His sapphire eyes blaze with something I can`t quite determine. Faith maybe? Didn`t he know all I ever did was disappoint people? Maybe he did and maybe he didn't care. Maybe, just maybe he believed in me still. Maybe he was going to be the one who finally cared enough to look past the snarky attitude and see the hurt and the distrust and the longing inside.

"Just take a deep breath, Dean."

Trembling and spluttering, I do what he says. I open my mouth as wide as I could without looking like a giant fish, feel the sea air fill my lungs with fresh oxygen and hold it.

I am rewarded with a huge, comforting smile. "And just let it all out."


	13. Sorry

I made it back to the house just before Kate did, slamming the front door shut at forty two minutes past three. I sprint up the stairs to dump my bag in my bedroom, shrugging off my black leather jacket on the way. I throw them next to the pine chest of draws, emptying out my still switched off phone and IPod, which I plug into charge. After the awkward blubbering session where I humiliated myself by crying into the guy`s shirt like whiny little baby, we had both sat down and listened to it, feeding the leftover sandwiches to the gulls. They wouldn`t have let us alone if we hadn`t. Cas was kind enough to insist that he give me a ride back home again on his black two wheeled death trap. It wasn`t as bad this time, now that I knew not to freeze up and have a mild panic attack whenever we approached a turn and just lean into it naturally as he did. I still clung on for dear life to my new found friend though.

"At this rate of improvement I might just let you drive by the end of the week." Cas had joked, his pink lips curling upwards into an amused grin as he pulled up just out of eyesight from the living room window, even though I had told him repeatedly that there was nobody home.

Now he was long gone and I found myself missing his calming presence more than I would like to admit. I had come here so alone and lost and with a thunderous attitude that might even make a storm cloud tremble with fear. Yet here was this guy who didn`t even know me, who had no relation to me whatsoever and here he was willingly spending time with me, waiting out for hours on a cold, neglected beach just on the off chance I would possibly show up.

I fall backwards onto my single bed, scoffing at the disgustingly girly floral print duvet and close my eyes. I hadn`t been sleeping well at all, even though I spent almost all of my free time hiding under the blankets trying to block it all out. The time when I wasn`t spent arguing with John, that is. I sigh deeply and pick up my cell phone and for the first time in days, I switch the damned thing on. It takes an eternity for the screen to light up, play an annoyingly upbeat tune and display the lock screen. While Cas had never badgered or hounded me to contact my mother, unlike John and Kate, he had fleetingly mentioned it. Said some stupid crap about how I would only feel worse and the longer it took to do it the harder it would become. Hesitantly I open up my short list of contacts. I used to have louds, but I had deleted most of them over time. Why did I want to contact my family anyway? All family ever did was fuck you up, they didn`t care, not really. Only because they had to, which sure as hell wasn`t the same as wanting to.

Reluctantly I select the right contact and dial. My stomach tightened into a tangle of tricky knots and I hold my breath. It rings once, twice, three times, four, five times more and it quickly become evident that she isn`t going to pick up. I hadn`t expected her to on the first ring, or even the second, but she should have answered. Scowling, I hurl the phone onto the bed, ignoring the posh answerphone voice. Remembering Cas`s earlier words I pick it up again and leave a quick message.

"Hey. It`s me. Dean." My voice comes out clipped and harsh, but I don`t care. This was the woman who had easily and without regret shipped me off to an alien country, putting a whole God damned ocean between us. "You know, just in case you have forgotten who that is, it`s me, your son. Anyway I`m not going to apologise for running off, just so you know. I am not sorry, so why would I say I was? You always said not to lie."

I frown and run a hand through my short hair out of frustration. This wasn`t going well. Not at all. Cas would be so disappointed in me, not that I cared obviously. Except I did. I was used to being a disappointment to everyone, and everyone knew straight away I was going to end up letting them down, so they never even gave me a chance because they knew it was stupidly pointless.

"So, um…I`m okay, I guess. Not brilliant and I hate it here and John is being a Class A Asshole, but I can deal." I would have to deal. No amount of whining and crying as going to get her to reconsider. I almost mention Sam and Adam, my two younger half-brothers. It was the first time that thinking of them as that doesn`t make me feel sick or make the aches and knots in my heart and gut tighten uncomfortably.

"John probably told you this but the school has refused to take me back so it`s home schooling until further notice. Fun right?" I choke out a smile and a brief, humourless laugh for her benefit. I was furious at her still, but that wasn`t going to get me a plane ticket back. Though for certain reasons I wasn`t quite so eager to leave anymore.

"Bye."

There is an irritating bleeping noise from the answerphone and I place the phone down on the bed next to me, not bothering to lock it. It wasn`t like anyone was going to come in and search through it. They wouldn't dare. Not like there was anything to hide anyway. I had less than ten contacts and only a pitiful three of them were friends. The rest consisted of mum`s cell and work number, and now I had been forced to add John and Kate`s number to the pathetic list. Sam had badgered me to add him to my puny contact list too, which I still hadn`t done. What would the floppy haired kid want to talk to me about anyway? We were polar opposites. What with his permanent hopeful smile that reminded me of a cocker spaniel puppy and eager to help attitude he was as far away from snarky teenager as you could get.

Bored, I pick the device up again and scroll through old messages. I had a really bad habit of waiting for months and months before deleting old texts. The last message I had received was from Kate a few minutes ago, kindly informing me that she would be home in ten minutes with Sam and Adam and asking if I would like to come to the shops with them tomorrow. I reply even though it was pretty pointless seeing as she would be driving and wouldn`t even see the text until she got home.

Trying to hold back the hurt I realise that Lucifer, Lisa and Crowley hadn`t even bothered to text or call once to find out how I was adjusting. Great friends. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to maybe, just maybe, possibly kind of see what mum had been getting at when she was dissing them. Hell, Cas had shown more genuine concern for me in the brief hours I had known him than they had in the entire time I had lived just round the block from them.

The front door opens at exactly twelve minutes past four and I find myself leaving the comfort of my scarcely filled room and go and welcome them home in a less angry tone than I would have used even as recently as yesterday. Don`t get me wrong, I still was far from ready to play happy families with anyone, especially John, but maybe Cas had something there with the whole "letting it all go," bullcrap. Worth a shot, right? I was miserable as sin as it was, I guess it couldn`t hut to give it a try. I was certainly far from ready to forgive and forget, but maybe I could give being a little more pleasant and sociable a shot.

John came home at six o clock on the dot just as he specified earlier and we all eat in the dining room, Kate was a pretty damned good cook. Way better than the inedible swill mum produced most days anyway. Adam seemed to be opening up a little, losing some of that admittedly adorable shyness as he sat swinging his chubby little legs as he sat at next to me, telling me all about his day. Being seven years old these days sounded way more difficult today than it did when I was his age. Back then it was all fun class trips to farms to feed the pigs and worksheets you could colour in afterwards. I actually used to be a pretty good student, I never came top of the class, but I was one of the kids everyone had high expectations for. And then John went and blew it for me. Ran off and left me confused and angry.

And unable to take the blame for my own mistakes, it seems.

I had always known it wasn`t his fault for my failing grades, lousy attitude and sudden disrespect for all things authority related. He wasn`t the one who introduced me to my unsavoury friends, he didn`t force the cheap booze down me, nor did he nearly knock up his fifteen year old on/off again girlfriend. Deep down, I guess I had always know that. I was mad and bitter and hateful and it is always easier to admit that you are angry than hurt. Always miles simpler to lash out with hurtful words and set out to disappoint people from the get go rather than let them down along the way.

For the first time in a very long time I feel guilty. Not just a little guilty or ashamed, full on pain in the stomach, lump in your throat the size of Texas, head swimming as I recall all of my past failures. Too many to name.

Sam notices something was up and gently nudges my left leg with his foot, looking up from his plate stacked high with meat and veg with concerned eyes. I try to pretend I hadn`t noticed, but then he does it again. Harder this time.

"Dean, is everything alright?" he questions softly, in hope that the others don`t notice, but they do. Of fucking course they do. Got to appreciate the kid trying though.

"Sweetie, do you feel sick?" Kate instantly rushes over, abandoning her own dinner. The dinner she had slaved over as soon as she had come home until just a few minutes ago.

"I feel fine, just tired." I lie and she knows this. I can tell from the disapproving look she throws me.

"Don`t give me that rubbish, Dean. You haven`t been fine since you arrived here, have you?"

I really hope I wasn`t expected to answer that. God knows what words would tumble from my stupid, big fat mouth.

"Can everyone give us a moment?" she asks the silent table. "Sam take Adam and watch some cartoon while you finish eating."

The two young boys do as they were told and pick up their plates and cutlery, closing the door behind them, but not before flashing me worried smiles. John hovers uncertainly in the doorway, repeatedly shifting his weight from one leg to the other one awkwardly.

He smiles doubtfully over at me, his own dinner plate in hand. "Should I go too? Or…" he trails off clumsily.

I consider for a minute. One very loooong minute. On the one hand, I still hated his guts and would gladly sever his no good, wandering testicles and wear his intestines as a belt, but on the other hand….I was fed up of fighting, I had had enough. I could no longer carry the heavy burden that came with the constant fury and betrayal. I just wanted it to be over. I wanted my dad.

"Sta-" My green eyes fall on a golden framed family portrait hung slightly lopsidedly above the door and I swiftly change my mind as I feel the pain radiate from my throat all the way down to my heart.

"Go." I snap.

He looks shaken, but nods wordlessly.

"Please," my tone softens, "I just need-" I pause. What did I need? What did I really, really need? Time? Supposedly it healed all wounds, but it had been three years, surly that should be enough? To be left alone with nothing but my bitter self for company? At least that way I would be unable to disappoint anyone like he had disappointed me.

"It`s okay, Dean." He says calmly, even though I could tell from his eyes he knew that it wasn`t. "You need time, I get it." He continues to mumble something about how he wasn`t good with words and saying what he felt, then he went on to apologise clumsily, but I hardly heard him.

Sorry.

He had said sorry. He had apologised. To me. For everything. He had said, "For everything he had done." Everything. That sure as hell was an awful lot to be sorry for.

"I`ll be in the garden, it`s about time the grass got cut. Kate has been nagging me for weeks, haven't you dear?" he leaves, closing the door softly behind him.

"You haven`t been fine for a while, have you, hon?" Kate asks before hesitantly wrapping an arm around my shoulder and I resist the overwhelming urge to lean into it and cry like I had done with Cas earlier. "I can`t imagine what you must have went through after what happened, and I have said it before but I am truly sorry for all the hurt we caused. The hurt I caused you. If I had known…" she frowns.

I wonder if she had known, would it have changed anything? Would she have dumped his sorry cheating ass or not? In the end I guess it doesn`t really matter, you can`t change the past. What is done is done.

"I really think you could be happy here, if you just gave it a chance."

I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off. "Just let me speak for a minute, Dean. I know you don`t want to be here, and why would you? I fully understand your dislike for me, in fact, if I was in yours shoes I don`t think I would handle things any better than you are. But I also know that this is a lovely little town, and we are so happy to have you here, all of us. We really want this to be a place you can be happy."

She smiles at me, displaying her white perfect teeth. On closer inspection though, they aren`t perfect. They are ever so slightly crooked and she has a tiny piece of orange carrot caught in-between the front two. I point this out to her and she giggles like a little girl. Hardly the evil witch of a stepmother I had been expecting. Hardly the hostile bitch I had first seen her as.

She releases me from her hold and I pull her back slowly, shyly. She beams down at me and sits on the chair next to me, where Adam had been sitting not even half hour ago. She pulls my head to her chest and cradles it between her hands. They were so unlike my mother`s well-manicured ones, dry with short but clean nails and no polish. The curse of being a nurse I guess. All that hand washing and glove wearing must take its toll.

"John doesn`t mean it when he gets angry and shrieks like a banshee. He is full of hot air most of the time and sometimes he just needs to be left alone to deflate. I rarely pay any attention to what he is saying." She tells me, aiming for a laugh which she briefly receives.

"He said sorry. And I think he meant it." I mumble into her chest. "I can`t tell you how long I have waited to properly hear that." The half assed phone calls and letters hardly counted.

"He did, sweetie. Your dad loves you very much and it kills him to think that you hate him the way you do. He`s just so stubborn and rarely engages his brain before opening his mouth and sometimes what he says and does is very hurtful, but he doesn`t mean it. He never meant to hurt you. He loves you very much and I just hope and pray that you will be able to eventually learn to trust him again and see that."

I don`t know about that. Once trust is broken can it ever be fixed? Truly fixed? Sometimes things are broken and no amount of apologising can ever repair it. Sometimes things are better left broken so you don`t cut yourself on the jagged pieces.

Take a plate and throw it against the wall. It will break, right? Unless you have a magic plate made out of solid stone of something. Tell the broken plate you are really, truly, deeply sorry for hurting it. Does it magically fit back together?

Of bloody course not.

Superglue can work wonders though, sometimes.


	14. Gift

**_Hey there guys! How are we all? Thanks a lot to everyone who asked about my girlfriend, she is doing much better now and should be back at college Monday. I am posting this at seven in the morning without having slept so I am sorry for any silly mistakes. I will edit them tomorrow. Thank you so much for your lovely reviews and I hope you all have a great day._**

Eleven thirty the next morning and I am sat opposite Kate and John at a wobbly table slurping coca cola with extra ice. The café was right in the heart of a busy shopping mall, a great spot for people watching. Three bags stuffed full to bursting occupied the otherwise empty seat next to me. Awkwardly, feeling out of place sitting here in the lively café I fiddle with the cap from my empty coke bottle. The waitress, a skinny young brunette with a silver ring through her nose and brown eyes had brought out the chilled bottle and a tall glass with ice in the bottom for me to pour the juice over. Because apparently doing it herself was too much effort. John is flicking through the car magazine he picked up from W. H Smith while he finishes off his coffee. Inside were several new textbooks including English, Maths and Science, which I hated with a burning passion. Kate smiles warmly over at me as she sips delicately at her latte. I was bored out of my mind, but I suppose it wasn`t too unpleasant. It could easily have been far worse.

"It was a great idea of yours, Kate, coming into Norwich to do the shopping instead of Yarmouth." John praises, wiping his lips with a white napkin. The remaining crumbs from his hearty breakfast are removed from around his mouth and he chucks the soft tissue on the plastic tray. "Shame Sammy and Adam had school, otherwise we could have all came together. A sort of family outing."

They both anxiously turn to face me, to judge my reaction to the dreaded "F Word".

"Yeah, shame." I agree fully, thinking about how much Sam would have loved browsing in HMV and the massive bookshops and how much Adam would have enjoyed the pet shop with all of the small furry cuties. Kate`s smile widens, her carefully painted lips curling up so far it looked almost painful. John lets out a sigh of relief. Like I was going to start a big fight in the middle of a massive, overcrowded shopping centre.

"So we have pencils, pens, notebooks, printer paper, folders and files and workbooks at the correct age level. Is there anything else you can think of that you will need?" Kate asks as the young twenty something waitress wanders back over to collect our tray.

"I can`t think of anything." I mumble, staring at the entrance to a fashionable clothes shop were a young dark haired girl had just entered.

"I know you don`t like this, Dean, but this is hopefully only going to be a temporary thing. With any luck another school will be able to find you a place for the start of the new academic year in September. Or you could even apply to a college. There is one in Yarmouth which is only a few minutes away by bus or car and there is a massive one here in Norwich. In the mean time we have to inform the education authority that we plan to home educate you and they will send someone out to check up on us to make sure you are getting a suitable education until then."

It sure sounded complicated.

John looks up from reading about car sales and auctions in the area to grunt, "So you better not put one more toe outta line. This is serious, Dean. You cannot muck about this time. You will keep your head down and do the work we set you otherwise it will be my neck on the chopping block."

Kate shoots her husband a warning look. "Really though, this could be quite fun. You don`t have to follow a set timetable, you don't have to follow the curriculum and you can even go out and study in the library or in the park."

John looks like he is desperate to interrupt, but thinks better of it and returns his attention to his magazine.

Admittedly, that did sound quite good. Not exactly my definition of wild and crazy fun, but not quite the full on torture I had been imagining. A few weeks ago fun to me would have been staying out all night with Lucifer and Crowley getting pissed of our heads and sneaking into Lisa`s bedroom when her parents were asleep. Now, it may or may not have something to do with a desolate beach with grey-blue water and a blue eyed boy with untameable dark hair.

"We want you to do English, Maths and Science, because most employers demand that, but apart from that you are free to choose what, and how you want to learn."

It was starting to sound even better.

"As long as you do a few pages of Maths, English and Science a day then the rest of the time can be spent learning about whatever interests you. Such as…" she trails off guilty. "Well, what do you like, Dean? What subjects do you find interesting? What is something you have always wanted to know more about?"

I shrug, realising suddenly that I didn`t know. As a kid my list of hobbies was extensive. I was on the swimming team and the soccer team, I read lots of books about fantasy worlds and magic kingdoms in need of rescue and even used to play a little guitar. I had a beautiful guitar, old and beaten up and she was always slightly out of tune, because I never really grasped how to fix that, but I loved her all the same. It was a birthday gift from my dad and it was the best present I had ever gotten. The day after John had left I smashed her against my bedroom wall multiple times until there was nothing left to salvage. Now all my free time consisted of arguing, drinking, having sex, fighting and just generally being an asshole.

I think back to Castiel and my decision to let things go. I could never be who I was before, I knew that. That little boy with dozens of freckles and bright hopeful leys was long dead and buried, but maybe I could evolve and push past all the crap I had spent too long wallowing in. Maybe. It was certainly worth a shot.

"I like music." I tell her. "I used to play guitar." John`s eyes widen in surprise as I begin to explain to Kate how much I had loved my old guitar, despite her various bumps and bruises and how much I missed playing ."I guess I could also look up some information on some of my favourite musicians and write about them for English."

She beams at me, "That`s the sprit, Honey! You could even do book reviews and album reviews too. Or film reviews. And helping Sam and Adam with their homework will definitely count as well."

We leave the busy, but pleasant café a little after twelve and split up to go to the toilets. I wash my hands and angrily wipe my wet hands on my jeans when I discover that the hand dryer was out of order. Kate was waiting outside when I come out, bags of shopping sitting on the ground by her feet.

"John said something about having to run off and pick something up. He said he will meet us back at the car."

She leads the way back out of the ginormous shopping mall, past brightly decorated shops and countless vending machines and advertisements for expensive skincare brands and designer perfumes until we near the exit to the street when something in a window display catches my eye. A small brown teddy bear hugging another smaller bear.

"I`m just gonna go in there really quick, ok?" I call back to her as I am already dashing off in the direction of the busy shop, hoping that the long queue would have died down by the time I was ready to pay.

The shops was your typical souvenir shop filled with all sorts of items, some cheap and tatty, others expensive and high quality. Rows and rows of brightly coloured rock and other sweets, including chocolate boobs and cocks stood in front of me. Grinning to myself impishly, I grab up two packs of each, deciding to give them to Sam and Cas for a laugh. I also snatch up a few treat sized bars of chocolate for Adam. I doubt Kate would appreciate me giving him candy shaped like reproductive organs at his age. Tall oak and glass cabinets containing expensive and easily breakable figurines were standing behind the fifth row of sugary goodies. I spot horses, cats and dogs of all shapes and breeds along with more unusual creatures like unicorns, fairies and gothic vampires and witches dressed all in black and red robes.

One figure in particular catches my eye. A pale slender girl with an angular face and large painted blue eyes. Long black waves of realistic looking hair cascaded down her bare back and her tiny little feet were bare. Her pose was seductive, without showing anything off and her plump red lips were smirking. Enormous wings, taller than she was were curled around her naked body protectively, the raven feather tipped with black glitter. Clearly an Angel, but not one that was particularly angelic. Vaguely interested in buying her, I glance down at the price tag, already knowing I wouldn`t have that kind of cash on me. I move on to the next aisle of gifts.

There was a long line of teddies identical to the one I had spotted from the window and I pick one up. It was cute and cuddly and with no tiny parts that might break off, it was perfect for seven year old Adam. Sam would scoff if I brought him one back too, so I continue looking for his present. After all, a bag of chocolate genitals didn't really say "I love you" as much as a teddy bear did. I soon find the perfect gift for him. An A4 sized poster of Scooby Doo, which I knew he still liked, even if he tried to pretend otherwise. After dinner last night I had hear the theme music coming from the living room while Adam was upstairs having his evening bath.

Now I just had to find something for Cas. This was going to be difficult, I knew it. Maybe even damn near impossible. I needed to find something really special for the blue eyed boy, but what? I search unsuccessfully through the aisles for a good ten minutes and am about to give up when I finally see it. A hoodie that was a rich blue in colour (though obviously not a patch on his eyes) and with giant black wings that stretched all the way down the back. Remembering the tale he told about wishing he could fly, I grin to myself. Perfect. Now to figure out what size. The guy was a little shorter than me, but skinnier. So maybe a size down from what I usually get? Uncertain, I pick two matching hoodies off the rail and examine them, holding them up one at a time to my chest. The sizing looked a bit neat, so I decide to go with the slightly bigger one. Besides, oversized hoodies looked cute on practically anyone.

Kate, who had been waiting impatiently all this time eventually grows bored of waiting and follows me into the store finding me in the middle of slightly shorter queue. Thank God it had thinned out a little bit, otherwise it would be midnight be the time we got home.

"Buy the whole shop, why don`t you?" The blond haired woman jokes, stepping in next to me. "What is all this?" She asks and her eyes narrow when I place the novelty candy up on the till.

"Just some stuff for Sam and Adam and myself." I catch myself just in time and manage to avoid saying Castiel`s name. That would have bene kind of an awkward conversation.

"Who is Castiel?" she would ask.

And I would reply, "Oh, no one, just a nice older boy I met at the beach who convinced me to try and make a change. Did I mention he has the bluest blue eyes I have ever seen?"

Yeah, I don`t think so.

"Really, Dean? Inappropriately shaped sweets?" She shakes her head, but I can hear the laughter in her voice that proves she wasn`t really annoyed, but amused. "Nice hoodie, though. I like the wings."

I smile. So did I, but more importantly, Cas would.

When we make it back to the car with the shopping, John is already there waiting for us, blasting an ancient cassette tape at full volume. Upon hearing us approaching, he switches it off and gets out to help us put the shopping in the trunk/boot/whatever you want to call it. Seriously, the English people sure had weird words. Why did they have to change everything?

"Here, let me help you with that, Dean." He offers with a smile and takes the bag with the gifts in it from me and places it carefully in the trunk.

"Why couldn't we have just put this all in the backseat next to Dean?" Kate complains after loading the last stuffed carrier bag into the impala and slamming it closed.

John`s smile widens into a full blown smirk. "Because, Darling, I may or may not have a little surprise for Dean in the backseat."

Confused and wondering what it could possibly be, I clamber excitedly into the back of the car. I have to look again to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. I blink, once, twice, three times but it was still there. A shiny new acoustic guitar.

He waits awkwardly outside the car, fidgeting with his rough hands. "It`s not exactly a top of the range, overly expensive one, but I thought it would be a good one to start you off again and I realised I hadn`t gotten you a welcome home gift and I know I have a lot to make up for but-"

"Thanks." The words come out a little snappy still, but I did mean it. The Dean from last week would have scoffed and have thrown this amazing gift back in his face, but not today. Maybe it was just a bribe, but maybe he deserved a chance too. "I really mean it." I try and speak more softly this time and I think I manage to, if the giant, infectious smile on his face is anything to go by.

Sam and Adam loved their gifts, Adam fell asleep clutching his new teddy according to Kate, and Sam had snickered at the sweets and had wandered off after dinner to hang his poster up in his room. I would have to wait till tomorrow to give Cas his hoodie and sweets, which seemed like an eternity away.

To save time in the morning, I shower at nine that night and pack the plastic bag containing the gifts into my messenger bag, along with two bottles of water and some sandwiches and crisps that Sam helped me to make.

"Home education sounds awesome." He tries and fails to hide his jealousy while spreading peanut butter onto white bread. "While I am stuck in a stuffy classroom with boring old teachers tomorrow morning, you will be out on the beach having a picnic." He grumbles, licking the remains of the sticky spread off his fingers and the knife.

"Yeah, well I still have to learn crap. School is still school. Besides, you have all your friends, Jessica, Jo and Charlie. I`m Billy No Mates." I add, remembering what he had jokingly called me earlier. The English and their strange phrases. I doubted I would ever get used to it.

Sam had spent all of dinner telling me everything imaginable about his small group of friends who were coming to stay over at the weekend. I noticed that they were all girls and had teased him a little about being a young Romeo, which made him blush ever so slightly. From the sounds of it he has his very first crush on one of them. Jessica, or Jess as she prefers to be called. Apparently, the last person to call her by her full name got an elbow to the gut. Jo and Jess were in his form class and they shared all their lessons together apart from Art and P.E. Oddly enough, it turns out that Charlie, who wasn`t a boy like I first thought, was the red head from the doomed Sociology lesson the other day. She was the girl who had helped with the computer and apparently, Jo had a big crush on her. Sam had delighted in explaining all of this in great detail over a large plate of homemade spaghetti.

He smiles at that and disagrees, "Nah, not no mates. You have me and Adam."

"Oh lucky me." I tease the younger boy and begin washing up the knives we had used.

Exhausted from my day of shopping, I am asleep long before midnight, which was a first. I am awoken by what sounds like hail against the window, which I try to ignore at first. Damn English weather. After a minute I sit upright in bed, the warm covers slipping and tangling around my legs as I fumble blindly in the dark to close the window I had left open after my shower last night.

"Dean!" A gravelly whisper by some unseen person outside in the garden makes it way to my ears.


End file.
